Gone, Baby, Gone
by MrsLuthor
Summary: This is the sequel to Fifty Shades Apart. You might want to read that one before embarking on this one because I've introduced new characters that aren't from the original trilogy.
1. The Storm

**Gone, Baby, Gone **

A/N: This is the **sequel to Fifty Shades Apart**. You might want to read that one before embarking on this one because I've introduced new characters that aren't from the original trilogy.

**Viewer discretion is advised for violence and scenes of an adult nature. **I'm trying to draw the right pictures without having to be overtly graphic, so apologies if it's too much or too little! Let me know what you think in terms of the descriptions, please?

I have no set posting schedule, **but I average a post every two days**, so I'll try to stay within that. People who aren't/don't want to be subscribed to me, can inbox me or post in a review their email address, and I will send you a note whenever I post a new chapter.

I won't lie, I'm certainly anxious about the added drama that the sequel will bring, but this IS fifty shades, and Ana and Christian are, evidently, magnets for drama! I felt like I wanted to explore this angle, but not in the same way as it's been explored already, so I hope I do provide a somewhat different take on this.

I wanted to try something new here, writing kind of backwards with the use of flashbacks. You'll see what I mean, and I'll make sure to clearly identify changes in POV and flashbacks/present day situations.

And lastly, this story is going to be predominately from Ana's POV because in the last story she was in a coma, so we had a lot of Christian's POV, and I want to explore this storyline through Ana's eyes.

Enough rambling! On with the story!

…

**Chapter 1 – The Storm **

"Get in there!" He shouts, pushing me through a large hole in the floor onto some steep stairs in a darkened space before slamming the door shut again.

I stumble, feeling for the edge of the first step. I take a deep breath, hoping my eyes will assimilate to the darkness soon. I don't know where I am or how long it's been since I was taken. I feel disoriented, as if I've just woken up.

"Take my hand."

I nearly jump out of my skin. I'd no idea that anyone else was here. She speaks again, and I immediately recognize her voice.

"You!" I gasp, pulling my hand away from her. "You brought me here!"

"I didn't have a choice. You'll thank me later." She says, taking my hand again. "Let me help you down the stairs. There are some loose boards. I don't want you to fall."

I begrudgingly take her hand, allowing her to help me to the concrete floor. I realize in that moment, as the cold ground shocks my senses, that I'm not wearing any shoes.

"Why am I here?" I ask, as she releases my hand and walks away.

I feel more disoriented, though I'm glad she's let go. My hands instinctively go to my belly, feeling for what? I don't know. Any sign that my baby is hurt, though I'm not sure how I'd know unless I was in pain or bleeding. I check for blood, and even though I can't see my hand in front of my face, I know there's nothing. My hand is dry. My baby is okay.

A dull light suddenly floods a small area of the room as she moves something away from the window. The dirt and grime covering its surface block out any substantial amount of light, and the bushes in front of it block most everything else, but at least I can see shapes to move around. Not that there is much to bump into.

"Where are we?" I ask, taking in my surroundings.

"In the playroom." She says softly.

"Who are you?" I ask, walking toward the window and reaching up toward it.

"It won't open. It's been welded shut from the outside." She says, and I want to punch her.

"How do you know that?!" I snap, turning to face her.

"Because he did it after my first escape attempt!" She snaps back, and I stumble back against the wall.

"You're not his partner?" I ask, suddenly feeling queasier than I already was.

"No." She says stepping closer to me.

Without the mask on, she looks familiar, like I've met her before, but the shadows in the room hide any discerning features.

"Danielle." She says, holding her hand out.

"It's Jack? Jack did this?" I ask as everything begins falling into place. "And you—you're… you know Christian."

"Yes." She says softly. "He's going to come down here soon. I made a mistake. He's going to punish me, but I want you to know that it will be okay. He's not going to kill me, and it will be over in a few minutes."

"What do you mean? What mistake did you make? You got me." I say, wishing my words could save her from whatever is about to come down on her.

"I was supposed to take your daughter." She whispers. "I couldn't bring her here. She's so smart, Mrs. Grey. I knew she'd know to call your husband for help. I knew she'd keep your little boy safe until Mr. Grey arrived."

"Eli has seen so much, and now…" I feel myself breaking, and a tear trickles down my face. "Sawyer and Taylor were hurt really badly."

"I'm sorry about your body guards." She says, even though it was Jack who shot them.

"They're—they were my friends."I whisper, wiping my wet cheeks on my palms.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Grey." She says, reaching for my hand.

"Ana. My name is Ana." I say softly, though I know that she's already acutely aware of who I am. "And Christian will get us out of this." I assure her, but my voice sounds far more convincing than I feel.

"Mr. Grey spoke very fondly of you." She says, but I know the only thing she really knows about me is what kind of shampoo I use and clothes that I wear.

A light at the top of the staircase startles us, and I see her frightened features in the shadows of the room. The over head lights turn on. They're bright and painful as he comes down the stairs.

"It will be over soon." She says, squeezing my hand quickly. "Just try to take yourself someplace else." She whispers before moving to kneel on the other side of the room.

"You really fucked up." Jack says, standing over her.

"I'm sorry." Danielle whispers, looking at the ground.

She's right. I need to be somewhere else, anywhere else. I'm terrified of what he'll do to her, of what he might do to me, though I allow myself a fleeting moment of grace to be grateful that Danielle let CJ escape.

Christian may have evoked fear from his subs, even from me at one time, but he'd never make someone feel this way. Everything he's done had limits and safe words. What he does and what Jack is doing, they're different. I have to remember that. I have to keep that in the back of my mind.

I watch Jack backhand Danielle. I hear a scream, and suddenly Jack has my face in his hand before I realize that I had been the one screaming.

"You shut up, or it will be you who is punished." he growls.

His breath is hot on my face and smells of stale cigarettes and liquor. He releases me, leaning me back against the wall carefully, as if he's trying not to hurt me.

"Jack, please don't hurt her." I beg, and I can feel hot tears streaming down my face. Maybe the time that we spent working together at SIP will work to my advantage.

"I warned you to keep your mouth shut, Ana." he says in a cold tone, his face devoid of emotion.

He grabs my arms, hauling me to my feet, and drags me toward the far wall. We have something similar in our playroom. Except instead of the polished wooden cross that we have on our wall, Jack has a rough feeling slab of untreated wood screwed into the concrete walls of his cellar.

He presses me against it, the splintered wood pricking me in various parts of my back and legs. I struggle, hoping that if I put up a fight, Danielle will help me, and we can overpower him together, but he punches me in the face. I can feel my lip split, and I'm dizzy.

"Don't do that again. There's no way out of here, anyways. Beyond that door is another door and beyond that, well, let's just say you wouldn't survive five minutes outside of this house. You don't leave, unless I let you." He snarls, snapping my wrists into the rough metal cuffs fastened to the upper corners of the board.

I try to kick him, but I feel disoriented, and he easily dodges my blow before fastening my left ankle into the cuff in the lower left corner. He grips my right ankle, prying it as far right as it will reach and then stretching it further still. This board was obviously assembled for someone who was much taller than I am because I feel like I'm on a rack in some medieval torture chamber.

Then it hits me. Maybe I am.

"No more screaming." He says, reaching onto the chest of drawers next to him and showing me a ball gag.

I've seen one of these before, in our playroom at home. Christian explained what it was to me when he caught me exploring the room one day. The difference was the trust. I trusted Christian not to harm me with it. Jack terrifies me.

I whimper as he places the ball between my teeth and straps it together in the back of my head. I can't breathe. I'm panicking.

… … _**...**_

_"Do you want to try it?" Christian asks, watching me clamp my teeth over the ball to test its size. _

_"I'd be concerned about being able to breathe." I reply hesitantly. _

_"I'd be concerned, too, if you couldn't breathe, Anastasia." he says, and I believe him. I trust my fiancé. _

_"Okay, but how do I safe word if I don't like it?" I ask, needing to know how to get out of this if it's too much. _

_"I'd like to believe you won't need to safe word with me, that I can read your body and know when you've had enough, but we'll use a hand signal." he says softly. _

_"Like this?" I ask, smiling sweetly as I flip him off. _

_"Perfect. You can be just as smart mouthed without even using your mouth." He says with a smirk. "Come sit down. I'm not going to tie you up." He assures me as I sit on the wooden bench. _

_The last time I was on this bench, he was beating me with his belt. I shudder, and he seems to notice. _

_"We can go to the bedroom if..." he starts, but I shake my head. _

_"I'm okay." I assure him with a small smile. _

"_I don't want you to be afraid of me, Ana. We don't have to be in this room if it makes you afraid of me." He says, his eyes full of love and concern._

"_I'm not afraid of you, Christian." I tell him. "I trust you not to let anything hurt me."I continue, knowing, without a doubt, that I mean every word. _

_I do trust him. He's not the same man who wanted to beat the shit out of me for rolling my eyes. He's my loving, tender, albeit somewhat kinky, future husband._

_"Remember to breathe through your nose." He says as his gentle hands fasten the ball gag behind my head, being sure not to get my hair caught in the buckle. _

_I start to panic, but Christian strokes my hair. _

_"Through your nose, baby." He whispers, his face inches from mine. He's breathing slowly through his nose, helping me find a rhythm with my own breathing. _

_It's not so bad, though I'd prefer to busy my mouth with kissing him. I know why he likes this though. The excitement he gets from this level of control is probably similar to the way I feel being under his control. I trust him implicitly. I think it's that level of trust that turns us both on so much. _

_"Come." He says, carefully removing the ball gag and tossing it onto the bench beside me. "You okay?" he asks, and I nod, tilting my mouth up to him. _

_He kisses me gently, and pulls away, leaving me wanting more. _

_"We have reservations with my parents at Canlis in twenty minutes." He says, smirking at my beseeching expression. _

_"Canlis is a five minute drive. If we shower together, we have a good ten minutes to play." I tell him, biting my lower lip. _

_"If we shower together, we'll be twenty minutes late. Let's go." He says, and I pout, sulking out of the room. _

_He swats my behind as I pass him, making me jump and squeal with delight. _

_"Later." He says softly as we head down the stairs toward our bedroom, and his whispered promise excites me even further. _

… … _**...**_

I watch as Jack walks back over to Danielle, gripping her hair and yanking her head back.

"You'll enjoy this." He says, smiling up at me. "Let's see how much Dani can take, shall we?" He asks, and I close my eyes.

I need to go someplace else. I need to think of something other than what's about to happen. I focus on a steady breathing rhythm through my nose.

In. Out. In. Out.

I miss a beat when I hear the cracking sound of skin slapping skin, but I don't open my eyes, and I find my rhythm again.

"You look so scared, Ana. I wonder how much _you_ can take. Do you have the kind of endurance to withstand hours on the wall, helpless?" Jack's voice taunts, but I squeeze my eyes tighter.

_Christian. Christian. Christian._

My subconscious chants his name like a prayer. He's trained me for this. I can handle this. I have the mental fortitude to withstand Jack's torture.

… … _**...**_

"_What?" I ask, breathless as I lay next to Christian on our bed, post love-making. _

_He shakes his head quickly, but he's still staring at me with questioning eyes. _

"_What?" I ask again, rolling onto my side, my small, round tummy looking like a miniature beer belly between us. _

"_I want to try something." He says slowly, hesitantly. _

"_Like what?" I ask, thoroughly intrigued._

"_I want to try… testing your limits." He says, and I'm curious as to why he's being so vague. _

"_How do you mean?" I ask, sitting up, preparing to take mental notes. _

"_I want to see how much you can take." He says, sitting up and searching my eyes._

"_Like… with pain?" I ask, uneasiness creeping over my body. Is old Christian back? The one who enjoys hurting pretty brown haired girls?_

"_No, no, baby, not with pain. With pleasure." He clarifies, and I visibly relax. _

"_Okay…" I reply, nodding slowly. _

"_Lay down in the centre of the bed." He instructs, and I nod, doing as he asks. "Arms up." He continues as he fastens leather cuffs to the bed posts and my wrists. _

_I giggle as his lips tickle my body on his way down to my feet. _

"_Spread 'em, little lady." He says in his mock southern accent. I love playful Christian._

_I giggle again, allowing him to cuff my ankles to either side of the foot board posts. _

"_I don't think you'll be needing the safe word to stop," he starts, speaking slowly, "But use yellow when you think you've reached your limit."_

_I nod, feeling somewhat anxious. _

"_I'm going to bring you as close to orgasm as possible, without actually getting you off, over and over. I want to see how much you can take before you need release, and I promise you, when you do finally release, it will be the most intense release you've ever experienced." He explains, and I bite my lip nervously. "Do you understand?"_

_I nod again._

"_Yellow means you can't take anymore, and I will give you the release you need. Red means you want me to stop all together and end the game completely." _

"_I understand." I whisper, feeling my belly tighten with excitement. _

_His touch starts as a soft, slow, meticulous caress over every inch of my skin. He's practically worshipping my body. _

_And then, as if all of a sudden, I'm gasping as the intensity coils in my belly for a third time since he began this little experiment. How much more can I take? I'm not sure. I bite my lip as he withdraws from me, giving my body a moment to come back from the brink of liberation._

"_Okay?" He asks softly, kissing my hip bone and circling his tongue in its dips and hollows. _

"_Yes." I hiss between my clenched teeth._

_I feel him grin against my skin. _

"_Breathe, Anastasia. Slow and deep. Relax your entire body and stay in control of your reactions. The moment you lose control of your own body, is the moment you lose control of the situation as a whole." He says, meeting my eyes briefly before beginning his ministrations again. _

_It isn't until the seventh time that I honestly feel I can take no more, but I do. I bite down on my lip, aching to go longer under this torture. It's becoming unbearable. _

_Before I can even process the thought, I hear my strained voice crying out the word 'yellow' and he's suddenly inside of me with his lips pressed to mine and his hands tenderly stroking my face._

_It doesn't take long for us to find mutual release, and he was completely right about how intense it would finally feel when we did. _

"_Wow." I whisper as he unbuckles the leather cuffs from my wrists and ankles._

"_Wow yourself. I'm very impressed with how much you can handle, Anastasia." He says, crawling into bed next to me. _

_I grin at him. It always makes me happy to know that I can impress him. I want to tell him that it helps when one is forced to endure unfulfilling sex for so long, but I don't want to bring up Jose, not in this moment, not in our bedroom. _

… … _**...**_

I open my eyes as the light goes out. I'm still chained and gagged, and I can hear Danielle sobbing on the floor. The slamming door startles me, and I feel panicky again. I steady my breathing around the ball, wanting desperately to adjust my cramping jaw.

I try to speak, to comfort her somehow, but all that comes out of me are grunts.

"I'm okay." She whispers, though I can hear the pain in her voice. "I can't untie you." She continues, and I wonder why.

I grunt again, begging to be released.

"I can't. I'm chained to the stairs." She tells me, and I want to cry.

I'm stuck like this until god knows when. I don't think I can take much more of the discomfort. I remember Christian's words.

I need to breathe. I need to be in control of my body's reactions to what I'm enduring. It's harder in this situation, though.

There are no safe words here.

This is not a playroom. This is a torture chamber, and this won't end when I flip my husband off.

…

* * *

"Sawyer!" I cry, climbing over the seats and shaking him. "Wake up!" I'm screaming at him, but he's not moving and there's something sticky all over his shirt.

Lelliott is crying. He never cries unless he super scared of something, like when Daddy yelled at someone on the phone. He hid in the closet, and he was crying for a long time after.

"Uncle Taylor?" I say, turning toward him, but he's not moving either. "Please wake up." I cry.

I need to call Daddy. He will know what to do.

"Come, Lelliott." I say, unbuckling him from his car seat.

The floor is wet, and the front of the car is in the water. I push open the door and climb out before helping my baby brother out. The hill is really big and the mud is slippery, but I try to climb up, holding Lelliott's hand.

I try again to climb up it with him, but we keep slipping down.

"Lelliott, wait here. I'm gonna come back for you." I tell him, kissing his hair. Mommy always does that. It makes Lelliott stop making the squeaky sounds he makes when he's sad.

"CC!" He cries, as I try to climb up the hill again.

"I'll be back. I promise." I tell him.

I dig my hand deep into the muddy hill and hold on as I push my feet up, but they keep slipping down.

"Taylor has a phone." I say, crawling back toward the car and climbing into the backseat. I reach over him, trying to find it, but his shirt is all red and wet. I look down; his phone is on the floor in the water. It's getting deeper. The water is almost at Taylor's knees.

"Sawyer?" I cry, hoping this time he'll wake up. His head is bleeding and his shirt looks very wet. I reach into his jacket and find his phone, but I don't know what Daddy's number is.

I climb back out of the car, grabbing my backpack and taking Lelliott's blanket and the phone with me.

"Come, Lelliott." I tell him, wiping my cheeks. "Come sit down."

He sits down on the rock I'm pointing to, and I wrap his blanket around him. It's a little wet and dirty, but I don't want him to be cold. His clothes are wet too, and I know Mommy always says you can't stay in wet clothes 'cause you will get sick. I don't want him to be sick.

I sit down next to him and reach into my bag, pulling out the snacks that Grandma packed for us. We don't like being in the car. She always knows to pack a snack. I open Lelliott's container with apple slices and hand it to him, then I look at the phone again.

I know how to spell Daddy. I wonder if I type it on the buttons, will the phone call him? I don't have a chance because the phone starts ringing. I press the green button. Green means answer. Red means don't answer. When we lived in Georgia, Mommy said we press green if it say GiGi and we press red if it's someone looking for money. It doesn't say GiGi on the screen, but it does say something and then GREY. Almost everyone I know has Grey on the end of their name. I wonder who M-R is as I press green.

"Hello? Is somebody there?" I ask.

"CJ? Baby, is that you?"

"Daddy?" I cry.

"I'm coming, baby. Where are Sawyer and Taylor?" He asks, and I cry more.

"They won't wake up!" I say, crying so much my eyes can't see so good.

"Where's Eli? Are you hurt? Is mommy okay?" Daddy sounds scared.

"Mommy is gone. The bad people took her."

"I'm coming for you. Don't move." He says, and I can hear the zoom zoom of his fast car. It makes loud noises when he drives it, and it always passes all the other cars.

I can hear sirens and the zoom zoom stops.

"CHRISTIAN! ELLIOTT!" Daddy screams, and I look up. He's standing on the top of the hill by the road.

"Daddy!" I scream.

Lelliott is still crying, and I hold his hand. We're going to be okay. Daddy is here.

…

* * *

I'm pacing the hospital room, waiting for my mother to finish checking my children. Taylor and Sawyer are both in surgery to repair the gunshot wounds and blunt force trauma from the crash.

"He's not hurt." My mother says, stroking Eli's hair, but I'm not convinced. He's sitting in the hospital bed whimpering.

"Mommy." He says, over and over in his soft squeaky voice.

"I'm going to pull this curtain and check your belly, okay darling?" My mother asks CJ. She's sitting in the bed next to Eli. She nods, and my mother encloses herself and my daughter into the other side of the room.

"Does this hurt?" She asks, and I assume she's pressing on the various regions of CJ's stomach just like she'd done to Eli.

It feels like forever before she opens the curtain again. CJ is now wearing a similar pair of hospital issue pajamas as Eli.

"They're not hurt." My mother says, forcing my eyes to meet hers. "They are not hurt." She says again as if she wants to drill this into my head.

"Ana…" I whisper because it's all I can say before I feel myself fall apart.

We've been through so much to finally be together, to finally be happy.

"We will find her, Christian." She says, but her voice cracks, and I feel like this is hopeless. "I'm going to check on Sawyer and Taylor. I'll be back with an update and something for the children to eat."

I nod, watching her walk out of the room.

"Mommy." Eli squeaks at me, and I try to smile at him, to reassure him, but I'm honestly not sure of anything right now.

…


	2. The Calm

A/N: So, I'm a lot further ahead in the writing of this story than I expected to be at this juncture, but I haven't hit a single bout of writer's block yet (knock on wood), so I thought I'd treat you lovelies to Chapter 2 tonight. I'm aiming to have this story complete and almost entirely, if not entirely, posted before I start school on September 4th, so that should give you an idea how quickly to expect it.

Just to clear up a concern that's been thrown out there in the reviews and the private messages: Ana is not going to be raped. I promise you. I'm also trying desperately hard to keep the violence as implied, rather than graphic, as possible. I hope the gushy scenes will make up for the scary/angsty ones.

As always, your continual support means the world to me, and I can't wait to hear what you all think of Chapter 2!

**Chapter 2 – The Calm:**

**- - - THREE DAYS EARLIER - - -**

I flick on my iPod and dance my way over to the kitchen, letting the blaring sounds invade my ears as I whisk Christian's eggs.

"I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it, sex in the air, I don't care I love the smell of it, sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me." I sing. "Na, na, na, come on, I like it, like it. S-S-S & M-M-M." I belt into the dripping whisk.

"There you are." Christian whispers into my ear, wrapping his arms around me from behind and resting his hands on my enormously swollen belly.

"Excuse me, Mr. It's-Part-Of-The-Scene-For-You-To-Cook-For-Me-Now, you knew exactly where I was." I reply, tilting my neck to the side in invitation.

"I was speaking to my shirt. I don't believe Master gave you permission to put clothes on." He says, spreading it open even more to expose the rest of my body.

I roll my eyes. It doesn't fit me buttoned up anymore, but it's still so comfortable to wear wide open with nothing but a pair of panties. Christian doesn't seem to mind.

"Do you know how sexy you look, standing here barefoot and pregnant, cooking for me?" He asks, grinding his hips into my backside.

"I'm aware that you think so." I say, though I don't actually agree.

"I would knock you up a million times and raise a million of your babies, just see you like this." He whispers, and I cringe.

"Knock me up?" I ask, turning to stare at him.

"Impregnate? Fill with my spawn?"

"Oh good god!" I say, scowling as I turn back around to flip his omelet.

"I could take you on the counter right now." He mumbles against the skin on the back of my neck.

"You could try, but I doubt that I could get up, or that you could lift me." I laugh, scooting out of his arms and placing his plate down on the breakfast bar. "Eat your breakfast, _Sir_; you have to pick up your children from your parents before noon."

"Breakfast can wait. I accept." He says, stalking toward me with a determined gaze.

"Accept what?" I ask, raising a brow at him as he corners me against the counter.

"Your challenge. I believe you said that I was incapable of taking you on this counter because I couldn't lift you." He says, staring into my eyes as his hands find the backs of my thighs.

"Christian!" I squeal. "You're going to drop me!"

"Nonsense!" He grunts, lifting me onto the countertop.

"Thank you for that display of manly prowess." I say dryly. "The grunting was a little much."

He laughs, and his face twists into his sneaky dom expression.

"I don't like your lip, Mrs. Grey." He says in an eerily low voice.

"I'm so sorry, Sir." I say in a sugar sweet tone. "Please, don't punish me."

He laughs because I'm mocking the situation, but I can tell he likes it when I submit to this damsel in distress routine.

"I'll just lie here." I say, letting my back lay flat against the cool counter. "You can have your wicked way with me while I nap."

"I believe I mentioned once that I like my women sentient and receptive." He says dryly, though a grin plays at his lips.

"I'm sorry, but I don't recall that conversation." I say casually.

"You've probably pushed it into the deep crevices of your subconscious because it was too traumatic to remember." He laughs, and I feel myself blush even now.

Thankfully, I'm not as embarrassed as I once was about throwing up all over him that night when we'd only first met. He was even the unlucky recipient of a vomit covered shoe recently at the mall when a woman wearing far too much of a cheap perfume walked by us.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't recall the event of which you're speaking." I say again, trying to sit up.

I watch Christian back away, crossing his arms and smirking as if he's enjoying the view of me struggling to sit up.

"Christian! Help me!" I whine, placing my hands flat and using the surface of the counter as leverage to no avail.

"Will you cease the cheeky remarks and false memory lapses?" He asks, stepping closer, but not close enough for me to reach.

"I can't make any promises." I mutter, letting myself fall flat on the counter again.

He laughs, coming to stand between my dangling legs. He grasps my ankles and places my feet flat on the counter, bending my knees up in the process before following the lines of my legs up my thighs and onto my round stomach. He leans forward and presses his lips just below my belly button, and I sigh.

"We could just birth you right here." He says softly, running his palms up and down the insides of my bare thighs. "I could stand here and catch the baby."

I laugh, watching as he mimics the action of holding a football under his arm.

"I don't think so." I say, as he finally helps me sit up, remaining between my legs. "I was adamant about having a home birth with CJ. I'd hired a midwife, and my mother called her over when my water broke. I wanted it to be natural and comforting. I wanted her to be born in her home, surrounded by the people who love her." I explain, painting the picture for Christian that I had in my head at the time.

"So what happened?" He asks, grasping my behind and pulling me flush against his pelvis.

"One really bad contraction, and I was screaming 'SCREW LOVE! GIVE ME DRUGS!' My parents took me to the hospital immediately. Ray seemed legitimately frightened." I reply, giggling at the memory.

"Hospital it is." He nods adamantly. "I don't want you screaming 'screw love' again."

"Never again." I whisper, letting my forehead rest against his. "I called you that day, well my mother did actually." I tell him, my voice quiet.

"You did?" He asks, his eyes full of sorrow.

"Your office said you were in Taiwan, and your cell was no longer in service, or my number was blocked… I'm not really sure." I say, shrugging it off. "I wanted to yell at you for having such potent sperm." I laugh, and receive a small smile.

"I'm nervous." He admits quietly, and I stroke his face.

"We'll all be fine, Christian. In a couple of months, all of your nerves about childbirth will be gone and transferred into nerves about handling a newborn." I assure him.

"I just wish…" He starts, and I place my finger on his lips.

"We can't change the past, baby." I whisper, telling him the same thing I've been telling him throughout the entire pregnancy. "You're already the world's best father. This baby is going to be so lucky." I continue, stroking his hair softly.

He smiles, his eyes closed, as he revels in my tender caresses of his hair and face.

"You called me 'baby'." He says with a soft laugh.

"You call me 'baby' all the time." I point out, leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I know." He says, and I watch as shy Christian appears before me. "I like it when you do that. It makes me feel…. Cherished." He says almost hesitantly, as if he's too shy to admit it.

"You are cherished, Christian." I say as my mouth inches closer to his. "My Christian." I whisper against his lips, and I feel him smile against mine.

…

"Mommy, can I have a cookie?" CJ asks, and I smile, putting my spatula down and reaching up into the cupboard for the cookies.

"Just one. Dinner will be ready soon." I warn her.

"Lelliott wants one too." She says, holding out her other hand.

I look around the breakfast bar and see my son standing in the doorway.

"Come over here, Eli." I say softly, smiling at him as he wanders over, his blue eyes large and curious.

He stands in front of me and looks up, but he doesn't say a word.

"Eli, would you like a cookie?" I ask, crouching down in front of him, my belly protruding in the most ungraceful manner.

He nods, and holds his hand out.

"I know that Eli has words." I say, poking his belly gently and eliciting a small smile. "Can you ask mommy for a cookie with your big boy words?"

"Mommy. Cook. Peas." He says, and I grin.

"Of course, you can have a cookie, Eli." I say, handing him the cookie.

His face is lit up with joy and pride, and I never get tired of hearing his voice.

Both Flynn and the speech pathologist that we've been working with agree that it's important for us to encourage Eli to use the words he knows, as well as work on new words with him. Flynn stresses that using praise when he does well will help the process, and we've already seen an improvement in the months that we've had him.

As I stand back up, Eli looks up at me with what we call his scrunchy thinking face, and I smile.

"Do you have something to say, Elliott?" I ask, but he just stares at me with his thinking face.

I watch, wondering if he's forming the words in his head as his mouth opens and closes a few times.

"Mommy…" He starts, and I nod, staying silent so he can figure out what he wants to say. "Mommy. Big." He says, nodding thoughtfully as he lets the words roll out of his mouth.

I smile, even though my son has just called me fat in his own way, and stroke his hair.

"Yes, mommy's tummy is very big." I agree.

"Verrrry big." He says slowly, copying my words before walking away.

I hear him repeat his new sentence a moment later in the living room, followed by Christian agreeing. I shake my head and return to cooking dinner, but I'm distracted again when I feel a small hand tugging on the hem of my maternity shirt—dress? Frankly, I don't know what it is, but it fits.

"Do you need something else, Eli?" I ask, smiling down at him.

"Mommy…" He says slowly, and I force a grin on my face as I await the other half of his phrase. "Mommy pre-tty." He says, and my heart melts.

"I love you, Eli." I say slowly, letting him absorb the words.

"CC?" He asks with wide blue eyes.

"Yes, mommy loves CJ, too!" I exclaim. "Can you go tell Daddy and CJ that it's time to eat?" I ask him, watching him nod and take off toward the living room.

"Daddy. CC. Eat." His little voice booms, and I feel my heart swell with pride.

"Lelliott, come wash your hands." CJ says, and I watch her lead him off toward the bathroom.

I turn back around to dish everything out onto plates, but I'm soon distracted by my husband's hands sliding over my belly and his lips on the back of my neck.

"You should be sitting." He murmurs against my skin, and I sigh.

"My husband and children need to eat." I reply, letting my hands rest on top of his.

"We can order in, or ask Gail to make things for us to reheat on her days off. You're not supposed to be on your feet this long. If you don't start following orders, I'll find ways to keep you on your back." He insists bumping his hips against my backside.

"Christian Grey!" I gasp in mock indignity.

"I can't help myself. You're so sexy like this." He says, letting his hands roam over the swell of my stomach and toward my breasts.

"Are you guys making babies?" CJ asks, startling us both.

We turn to find her and Eli standing in the doorway of the kitchen, staring wide eyed at us.

"No, why would you think that?" I ask, watching as Christian lifts CJ into her seat and straps Eli into his.

"My friend, Alex, told me that when he got a baby brother, his mom and dad kissed a lot and then his mom swallowed a baby seed, and the seed grew, so she got SO FAT, just like you mommy, and then the baby came out of her butt!" CJ says, her eyes widening with every astonishing word.

"Eat baby?" Eli asks, cocking his head to the side in a very Christian Grey manner.

"I don't think I like this Alex character." Christian says, shaking his head.

"I didn't eat the baby, and it's not going to come out of my behind." I say dryly, wondering where in god's name kids get these ideas from.

"If you'd swallowed it, you wouldn't be pregnant." Christian mumbles, and I nudge him, making him smirk. "We can test that theory later." He mutters under his breath.

"That's not how it happens, honey." I say, not wanting to get into this conversation with my five year old.

"Did Lelliott come out of there too? Is the new baby gonna be as big as him? How did he fit in your belly? I bet Lelliott had to roll in a ball like a hedgehog to fit in there."

I stare, wide eyed, as my daughter rambles, and I listen to Christian's snickering laugh as he feeds Eli.

"Eat." I say softly, pointing to her untouched dinner.

"There better not be any baby seeds in this. We have no more space in this puny apartment." She mutters, and I shake my head.

"This puny apartment could have swallowed our entire house in Georgia." I inform her.

"There was just two of us in that house. Now there's like, forty seven of us." She replies, waving her fork around.

"She's right, you know." Christian says, and I raise a brow.

"There are not forty seven of us." I mutter dryly.

"No, but with us, the three kids, Gail and Taylor, and Sophie every other weekend, plus Sawyer, Ryan, Reynolds, and Prescott roaming around, and the four new body guards that we're hiring… it is going to be crowded." He says.

"Why are we getting four new guards?" I ask, having just heard the news this very moment.

"Because I want to know that my children and my wife are safe. With this much security, nothing can go wrong. There's no such thing as being over prepared, Anastasia." He says, daring me to object.

"I'm going to be understanding of your feelings, Mr. Grey, and accept that you need these precautions to feel secure, but I'd like you to be aware of how crazy I think all this security is." I say, keeping my voice as calm as possible.

"Why is it crazy?" He asks, raising his brows in disbelief.

"Too many cooks in a kitchen…" I mutter, bringing Christian's fork to his mouth as he continues to abandon his own dinner in order to feed Eli and his giant appetite.

Christian never complains. He loves that Eli loves to eat. He also loves that our son will try almost anything you want to feed him. The boy has a palette as diverse as his father's.

I smirk at the irony. There was a time when Christian was all about force feeding me. Now, it's me who's making sure he eats because his devotion to our children distracts him so much.

"I have a video meeting in a few moments. I'll need you guys to keep it down for a while." He says, ignoring my comment about the extra security.

"That's fine. I think we're going out." I reply quietly.

"You didn't mention this." He says, glaring at me for throwing a wrench in his perfectly orchestrated life.

"CJ needs a dress for next week." I remind him, raising my eyebrows at him.

He grins proudly at our daughter.

"Yes, she does. First piano recital calls for a new dress." He says.

"I want to wear jeans." CJ grumbles, crossing her arms.

"Jeans won't go with the gift I bought for you to wear during your recital." Christian says in a teasing voice that perks our daughter right up.

"What did you buy me, Daddy?" She asks, bouncing in her seat.

"You'll have to wait and see." He replies with a wink.

"Eat!" Eli squeals, trying to reach the spoon Christian is holding just out of reach of our son's mouth.

"Sorry, buddy!" He says, chugging the spoon into Eli's mouth like a train.

I sigh, trying to adjust in my seat as the discomfort settles in my abdomen.

"Are you okay?" Christian asks, glancing briefly at my strained face.

"I'm fine. The baby is just using my ribcage to play the harp with her feet." I explain.

"She's a girl today?" He asks, smirking at me.

I shrug, I can't decide what I think we're having, but I still want to be surprised.

"Go lay down, baby. I'll bring your dinner to bed." He says, and I sigh.

"I promised CJ, and you have your meeting in a few minutes." I remind him, but he shakes his head.

He pulls out his blackberry and holds down a speed dial before pressing the phone to his ear.

"Andrea. Call my 6:30 and postpone until tomorrow morning." He snaps, hanging up before waiting for a response or thanking his assistant.

"You know, your staff might like you better if you were nicer to them." I point out, and he shrugs.

"If I'm nice to them, they won't be afraid of me, and if they're no longer afraid of me, they'll try to get away with doing half-assed work.

"You said a potty word!" CJ gasps, pointing at her father.

"Bad!" Eli says, shaking his head vigorously.

"I'm sorry!" Christian says, raising his hands in defense.

…

"Mommy." CJ whispers, kissing my cheek.

"Hmm?" I ask, letting my eyes flutter open.

"Are you sleepy?" She asks, and I nod, stroking a curl out of her face.

"Did you find a dress?" I ask, sitting up.

"She sure did." Christian says, walking into the room with Eli, already dressed in pajamas. "She looks beautiful." He says, kissing the top of her head as he places Eli on the bed next to me.

"Hug?" Eli asks, cocking his head to the side. He always asks first, as if he's unsure if he's allowed.

"Of course, Eli! Mommy loves your hugs!" I tell him, gently pulling him close to me and wrapping my arms around his tiny body.

I do love his hugs, but I love even more that we have the opportunity to give him the human contact that he lacked with his birth parents. Christian came from similar circumstances and the cards fell in completely different places for him. We're both glad that Eli is able to rise above what happened to him. Flynn says that it has to do with how young he is. He's still trusting and open to new experiences, whereas Christian was four years old by the time he was rescued. He'd experienced that hell for twice as long as Eli.

I glance at my husband and smile. Despite everything, I think he's turned out all right.

…


	3. Revelations

****A/N: I'm glad everyone seemed to enjoy the break you got from the flashbacks and the Three Days Ago bit. I'm really trying to break up all of the angst by interlacing the good moments and little insights into what their lives were like during the months we skipped to this point (Where Ana is hugely pregnant, ready to burst any day).

My hope is that each chapter will reveal a little bit of the puzzle. I'm also glad to say that, in terms of writing, I'm waaay ahead of where I expected to be, (ie: I'm about to start writing chapter 8!), so I'm going to post as frequently as I can without making myself fall behind.

I didn't like the crunch of having to pump out an entire chapter quickly and post because I don't like leaving you guys hanging that I felt with FSA. I don't like having to wait a week for another chapter when I've been reading something because I always forget what's happened so far, so I'm trying really hard to not leave you guys hanging long enough to lose vital clues and information.

Without further ado...

**Chapter 3 – Revelations:**

**- - - PRESENT DAY - - -**

"What does he want?" I ask as Danielle wipes the drool off my chin with her sleeve.

"He hates Mr. Grey. He said that everything your husband has, he took from Jack." She explains.

"I'm sorry you were dragged into this. I'm sure this isn't what you signed up for." I say, knowing she wouldn't be in this mess if she hadn't known Christian.

"Does anyone even notice I'm gone?" She asks sadly, and I nod.

"We've been looking for you for the past couple of days." I inform her, remembering the shock that Christian and I felt when we saw the newscast.

_**… … …**_

"_So what are we doing in here?" Christian asks as we curl up together on the sofa in the TV room._

"_We're going to make out in front of the TV." I explain, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. _

"_Why do we need to have sex in here?" He asks, furrowing his brow._

"_We aren't going to have sex." I giggle, snuggling my face into his neck. "We're just going to make out."_

"_That seems a little… unlikely." He says, but he picks up the remote anyways and begins flipping channels. _

"_Wait, go back." I say, pointing to the TV. _

_He flips the channel back two stations to a newscast, and we both sit up straight on the edge of the sofa. A picture of Danielle, Christian's Danielle, is on the screen. _

"_Danielle Alexander, a twenty year old Seattle woman, has been reported missing. Alexander was said to be going on an extended vacation with her boyfriend, however the two never made it onto their flight, nor did they check into their reserved suite at their intended destination. _

_Her boyfriend, Jack Hyde, thirty-five, has not formally been reported missing, however, authorities have yet to make contact with Mr. Hyde and believe he may be with the victim or responsible for her disappearance."_

_We listen carefully, both equally shocked by what we're seeing. I risk a glance at Christian; his jaw is clenched and tight and his eyes are wide with horror. _

"_That fucker, Hyde… he did this." He whispers, his tone eerily calm. "We have to find her."_

"_Okay." I whisper back because I really don't know what else to say. _

_He nods, and I can tell that his mind is racing._

"_We should call her family, or the police. Tell them we saw her with Jack a few months ago, that you know her, and I know Jack. Maybe we have some kind of information that seems irrelevant to us but would help in the case. They always say that to people, that what you think means nothing, could actually save the person's life." _

_I'm rambling, and I can't stop myself because I'm feeling so many mixed emotions. Of course I'm worried about this girl, but part of me feels the selfish, nagging feeling that wants to know why Christian feels so worried about her._

_Of course he's worried. He had a relationship of some sort with this woman. He cared for her on some weird, very Fifty level. Why am I jealous? This isn't about me and my insecurities. Christ, he tried to turn this girl into me. He's being exactly what I want him to be: a kind, caring, compassionate human being. _

"_Yes, but that may involve revealing some things about our lifestyle, Ana. I'm going to get Welch on it first, offer our assistance to her family and the police from afar. If we get too involved… I don't want the children exposed to whatever storm that might brew from this." He mutters, his voice quiet. _

_**… … …**_

"He said that once I found a new dominant, all of our ties would be severed. I didn't think he'd give a damn once he was released of all responsibilities toward me." She murmurs, and I can hear the surprise in her voice.

"Christian is a complex man. Even when he says he doesn't care… he does; he just doesn't want to be hurt." I say, not willing to divulge my husband's tortured past, but knowing this girl needs comfort.

"He'll come for you." She says softly. "You're the one thing that nobody else in the world give him, the only thing he didn't have." She continues. "I realized that his birthday was coming up while we were together. I knew the nature of our relationship didn't leave room for me to give him something, but I really put a lot of thought into what I would give him if we were in a real relationship. I laughed at myself because, I mean really, what do you give the man who has everything?"

I nod, knowing exactly what that feels like.

"I realized something. The only thing that anyone could give that man, the only gift he'd see as worthy to receive, would be you." She says softly. "It was so obvious that he just wanted this mysterious girl named Ana, the girl whose name he whispered and whose photo he stared at when he thought nobody was looking, his Ana."

"I need him just as much as he needs me." I admit softly. "He's… my Christian."

"Do you want to try to eat something?" She asks, bringing the tray of food that Jack brought down a little while ago.

He'd untied her, and removed my gag, dangling the cuff keys in front of my face before laughing and leaving us alone to sit in the dark as the sun began to set behind the grimy window.

"I'm not hungry. Thank you." I say softly.

"You really should eat. I know how Mr. Grey can be about eating, and with your baby… He would never forgive me if I let you go hungry." She says, and I want to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of our situation.

"I'm eight and a half months pregnant and chained to a wall in my former boss' basement. I have a feeling that me skipping a meal will be at the very bottom of Christian's list of concerns." I say, and I hear her scoff.

She's completely right. Christian will have my head if I don't eat when given the chance. I don't know when or how my next meal will come, and I have this baby to think of.

"What is it, anyways?" I ask, and I hear her walk over to me.

"Today's culinary delight is the chef's specialty." She begins. "Peanut butter sandwiches and water." She says with a flourish that annoys me, though I have to remind myself that she's been down here for months living off of these, without any human contact, aside from Jack.

"They're not drugged, are they?" I ask warily as the idea that I may have been drugged during my abduction returns to my mind.

"I've never had any adverse reactions." She says, holding a sandwich quarter up to my mouth.

I take a bite, realizing I'm actually starving right now and would give anything to stuff my face with what I had for dinner last night.

_**… … …**_

"_What are you staring at?" I ask, my mouth full of delicious, melting rocky road._

"_You are…" He says slowly as if he's unsure of his final choice of word. "Disgusting." He finally says, and my mouth drops open. _

"_This is amazing." I tell him, rolling my eyes into the back of my head as I crunch down on a pickle._

_His eyes are wide as he sits down next to me on the sofa. I dip the pickle into my ice cream again and offer it to him, but he shakes his head in silent disgust. _

"_It's really good, baby." I say in a seductive tone, tempting him with the little endearment that we've discovered he likes quite a bit. _

"_Not in this lifetime." He says, shaking his head and smirking at me. _

"_What if I smear ice cream and pickles all over my body? Would you eat it?" I ask, dipping my finger into the ice cream and sucking it off slowly. _

_His eyes are clouding over, and I know I've won this battle of wills as I dip my finger again and offer it to him. He grabs my hand, bringing it toward his lips, and inserts the entire digit into mouth, sucking hard. _

_I moan with delight as he continues to lick and suck my finger long after the ice cream is gone._

"_I think you've spoiled your dinner, Mrs. Grey." He whispers, dipping his finger into the ice cream and offering it to me._

_I wink at him, licking his finger in long, slow strokes, catching any drips that have made it to his hand and the sensitive creases between his fingers._

"_This is my dinner." I whisper back, continuing my assault of his hand. "Ice cream, and pickles, and Christian. I could eat this all day, every day."_

_**… … …**_

"Are you arms feeling okay?" She asks, bringing me back to this hell we're in.

"They're pretty numb now. My shoulders and my back hurt, but I'm trying to ignore it." I admit quietly.

"Can I do anything? Rub your back or something?" She asks, and I chuckle.

"No, you don't have to do that." I insist, even though I'd kill for a back rub.

"Are you sure? I know how uncomfortable that can be for such a long time, and I didn't have the added weight pulling me forward." She says, trying to be delicate about calling me a whale.

"How long did he leave you here?" I ask, wondering if it will be any way to gauge my own punishment.

"The longest was nine days." She whispers, shrugging casually. "My shoulders still ache when it rains."

I shudder at the thought of having to stay in this position for another moment, let alone nine days. It's becoming unbearable, even with the deep breathing and control exercises that Christian and I have practiced.

Christian. He's coming. I can feel it.

He won't let me spend the night chained to this wall in this dank basement.

...

"Are you okay?" Danielle asks, and I realize she's noticed my uncomfortable shifting.

"I have to pee." I mutter.

The pain in my bladder is overwhelming now. I've held it as long as I can, and at this point, I'm ready to just let it go, but I can't. I wonder briefly what she did in this situation during her extended time on the wall, but I don't think it's an appropriate question.

"Oh, uh…" She says, awkwardly. I see her coming toward me in the shadowy darkness. "The bathroom is under the stairs." She says. "Let me see if I can find something."

I watch her shadow disappear, and I'm startled when I hear her knocking on the door at the top of the stairs.

"What?" Jack's voice snarls as light from the top of the stairwell floods down into the basement.

"Ana needs to use the toilet." She murmurs softly, and I wonder how much trouble she'll be in for bothering him.

I hear him grunt and stomp down the stairs, Danielle's quiet footsteps following, in quick succession, behind him.

"What's wrong? Your dom boyfriend never played bathroom games with you?" He asks, and I shudder.

"Christian isn't a disgusting monster like you, and he isn't my dom!" I spit angrily.

"Oh, but isn't he? We're cut from the same cloth." Jack says, his mouth quirking up into an evil grin.

He uncuffs my feet, one at a time, before cuffing them together with a different pair of metal restraints. Then he moves up to my hands and does the same, cuffing them together in front of my stomach.

"Take her to the bathroom. Hurry up." He snaps, and Danielle scurries toward me, guiding me carefully into the small bathroom in the space under the stairs.

There's no light bulb in the socket on the ceiling, but I can make out a toilet and a sink. She stands in the doorway, and it's then that I notice there isn't an actual door.

Fantastic. I can further this horribly humiliating day by relieving myself in front of my husband's ex sub. I'm grateful that it isn't Jack standing in the doorway though. I don't think he'd be as kind as Danielle and look at the wall instead of me.

I try to concentrate, but I've got a shy bladder, according to Christian.

**_… … …_**

"_Do you mind?" I gasp, closing my legs as best as I can while I'm sitting down on the toilet. _

"_Not at all." Christian says, grinning as he opens the medicine cabinet and pulls out the toothpaste._

"_I'm trying to pee here." I say, crossing my arms and glaring at him._

"_So pee. I have to leave early. I have a meeting." He says around his foamy toothbrush. _

"_Why can't you use a different bathroom?" I snap at him, but he just keeps on grinning._

"_Because all of my things are in this one." He says, spitting a gob of toothpaste into the sink. _

"_Christian!" I groan, pointing to the door._

"_Do you have a shy bladder, baby? You can't pee with me in the room?" He asks, and I glare at him._

"_No, I cannot. Please, make your way out of the bathroom train, and be sure to collect any belongings before exiting." I say, refusing to smile at his boyish grin._

"_What if I turn on the water?" He asks, but I glare even harder at him. "Fineee." He says, raising his hands in defeat despite his large grin. "You really need to get over this crazy little fear of peeing in front of me. What if we were stranded on a deserted island, and you needed me to keep watch for poisonous snakes while you peed in the bushes?"_

"_OUT!" I shout, pointing to the door._

_**… … …**_

I roll my shoulders and take some deep breaths, allowing my body to relish in the relief of being released from the wall.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Jack shouts, startling us both. I grunt, hauling myself off of the wobbly toilet and pulling myself back together as best as I can. Danielle gently clears her throat and helps me button my jeans below my swollen belly, pulling my shirt down properly before we leave the small room.

I wonder briefly if Jack will let me stay off of the wall, but his frightening grin in the shadows of his face tells me otherwise.

"I thought I'd be nice to you tonight, Ana." He snarls, tossing me onto the floor in front of the wall.

He uncuffs my hands, snapping the ankle cuffs on the wall around my wrists.

"You can sit for tonight." He says, and though my arms are still being stretched outward as far as they'll go, I'm grateful for the new position. "You, upstairs." He says, pointing at Danielle.

"Wait, don't leave me alone." I cry, pulling on the metal cuffs. They dig painfully into my wrists, but they don't budge from the wall. "Please, Jack!" I scream, but they don't turn around.

I watch them depart up the stairs, and the only light disappears with them and the slamming of the cellar door.

…

I'm not sure how long Danielle has been gone. It feels like hours, but it could be minutes. It's still dark outside, and I've lost all sense of time.

My other senses have become more acute though.

There's a moldy aroma encompassing the room as a whole, but it's a dull scent. Over it, is the smell of antiseptic, I assume for Danielle's wounds. I haven't really been able to get a good, well lit, look at her face, but I'm sure there are wounds. There's also the unsettling scent of sex and sweat, and I cringe as I imagine all of the terrible things he's done to her in here.

**_… … …_**

"_It will be more intense if you're not paying attention to the things you see and hear." Christian explains as he cuffs my hands to the headboard of the large wooden bed in the playroom. "Or touch." He says with a grin. _

_Once my hands and feet are bound, he slips his fingers between my skin and plush cuffs, making sure they're not too tight. _

"_Lift your head." He commands, and I don't hesitate, letting him place the blindfold over my eyes. _

_I sigh with content as he places first one and then another ear bud into my ears. Music begins to fill my ears, and I relax into the bed. _

_I'm naked, lying spread out on this bed without my hearing or sight, and my skin is coming alive with anticipation. I feel the bed shift as he moves, but he has yet to touch me. A moment later, his fingertips are tracing my instep, and his lips are on the inside of my ankle. _

_I sigh, or at least I think I do. I'm not sure if any sound came out because I can't hear myself or see Christian's reaction as his lips migrate up my legs. _

_When he finally removes my blindfold and the ear buds, post release, I blink at his grinning face lying next to me. _

"_So?" He asks, waiting for my opinion. _

"_That was… intense." I say, mimicking his description of what it would feel like. _

_He laughs, stroking my swollen belly. _

"_Everything felt…. I just… felt." I say with wonder, realizing that was the purpose of this game, for specific senses to be heightened by removing certain other ones. _

_Even without being able to see or hear his movements and intentions, I somehow anticipated where he'd go next, what he'd do to me next. We're in tune with each other._

"_Good." He whispers, pulling the red silk sheets up. "We should go to bed before the children go looking for us." _

_I smile. We put them to bed hours ago, but, like clockwork, they show up at our door around 3AM at least twice a week. _

_**… … …**_

I try to remember Christian's mouth on my skin, moving over me and caressing every inch of my body. If I continue to fill my mind with good thoughts, good memories, I'll last longer. I won't give up. I won't give Jack the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.

Christian will be here soon. I know he will.

I feel myself dozing off just as a small amount of light begins to soak through the grimy window. The last thought that crosses my mind is that I've been here all night, chained to this wall and waiting for Christian, but he never came.

…


	4. Taken

****A/: I like to think of myself as a giver! In that sense, here is chapter four, and I'll also tell you that I've written the rescue scene tonight, however, I haven't written the chapters that surround it entirely. The scene just came to me while I was walking my dog, and it was perfect, so I had to write despite not having the surrounding scenes complete yet.

Does that happen to anyone else? You think of scene that's not going to occur for SEVERAL more chapters, but it's so perfect in your head, so you write it down and then decide to write everything before it in a way that will logically lead up to that one scene? It's RE-Dic, I know. Anywho, ye hath requesteth, I hath giveth.

PS: Those of you wondering where Christian's POV is: I wanted to write most of the story from Ana's since she was comatose for half of the prequel to this story, but Christian's POV is coming up in Chapter Five! ;)

**Chapter 4 – Taken: **

**- - - ONE DAY AGO - - -**

"Have you even been to bed yet?" I ask, wandering into Christian's study in the short silk maternity night gown that I slept in.

I'm sure my hair is a mess, as I've just woken up, but he looks at me with such lustful eyes. I pull the matching robe closed; I don't want to be distracted. He's kept me in the dark with regard to Danielle's disappearance, and I'm tired of it.

"I'll call you back." He says, pressing a button on the phone on his desk. I realize then that he was on the phone.

"Welch?" I ask, coming around his desk. He turns his chair, offering me his lap, which I gladly take, but I know it's another distraction technique.

"Yes." He says softly, letting his hands meander up the tops of my thighs, hiking the hem of my night gown up with them.

"Were they able to get in touch with Jack?" I ask, trying desperately to ignore his touch.

"No. He's still missing." Christian says.

"Have they been to his house? Spoken to his family?" I ask, turning my head to look at my husband.

"Why are you interrogating me, Anastasia?" He snaps, moving me off of his lap and standing up. "I'm exhausted. I've spoken to the police and Welch about all I know, I don't need to be questioned by my wife."

I stand in his office, completely taken aback by his outburst, as he leaves the room.

"Where are you going?" I ask, trying to waddle after him.

"To bed." He says, walking through the great room and down the hall toward the bedrooms.

I sigh, rolling my eyes at him. I wasn't interrogating him. I was asking a question. So much for date night… and morning after date night.

I flop down on the sofa, staring at the walls and wondering what I'm going to do with myself. I have a few manuscripts that I need to read, and I'd probably get a lot of work done with the kids at Grace and Carrick's.

By the time I decide I want to go back to bed, Christian appears to be sleeping. His back is to me, and his breathing is slow and steady. I'm glad he's asleep, I just wish he hadn't gone to bed so angry. I just hope he doesn't have any nightmares. I wonder idly if that's why he didn't come to bed last night.

I slide in next to him, careful not to move the bed too much, and stare at his naked back. It's so tempting, and I have to bite my lip to prevent myself from leaning forward to kiss his skin. I want to touch him. I'm longing for the physical connect that we've been lacking since we found out about Danielle a few days ago.

I give into temptation, leaning in gently and letting my lips brush lightly on his shoulder. He doesn't move, so I risk another, more firm kiss.

His skin is so soft, and he smells so good.

I kiss him again, this time between his shoulder blades. I freeze, my lips still touching his skin, when I hear him sigh.

"Don't stop." He murmurs, and I realize he hadn't been asleep.

I grin against his skin before placing another kiss on the back of his neck, letting my hand roam freely over his hip and onto his toned stomach. He rolls over when my swollen stomach bumps into his back.

"May I help you with something, Mrs. Grey?" He asks, laying on his side, face to face with me.

"Yes, you can, Mr. Grey." I reply in a low, seductive voice.

He grins wolfishly at me. I've got him.

"Anything." he whispers, and I bite my lip.

"Anything?" I ask, and I watch as he nods slowly, letting his hand roam under my night gown and onto my stomach.

I push on his shoulder, and he lets me press him down onto his back before straddling his thighs. I press myself against him intimately, gauging his reaction.

"Taking the lead? I think I can deal with this." He says, stroking my legs.

"I want information, Christian. You've kept me out of the loop on this whole Danielle fiasco, and I'm sick of it." I say, watching his lust turn to surprise. "We aren't supposed to keep secrets."

"You're using sex as a weapon to extract information from me?" He asks, but I can tell the irony isn't lost on him because a smirk is playing at his lips.

"Yes, now start talking, Grey." I demand.

"You'll have to do better than that, baby." he says, folding his hands behind his head and smiling up at me.

A battle of wills. He's challenging me at my own game. He doesn't think I can resist him.

Challenge accepted, Grey.

I raise my brow at him, silently warning him, but he just continues to grin. I bite my lip, pressing down against him again. He's harder now than he was a moment ago, and that gives me the upper hand.

Or so I thought. I wiggle, sliding myself back and forth over his pelvis, but the sensations I'm creating aren't lost on me.

I bite down even harder on my lip as his grin fades to something else, something primal, and I can't stop the moan that escapes my lips.

I want to blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but I'd be lying if I said my husband wasn't the sole reason that I often find myself in this state.

"Talk." I say, or rather sigh as his hands find my hips, pressing me more firmly against him.

"Had enough?" he asks, and his voice is much calmer than mine.

He's winning. I need a new strategy.

"Fine, you don't want to talk to me. I get it." I say, climbing off of his body and out of bed.

"Where are you going?" He asks, smirking at me as if he's won.

I put my finger to my lips as I pick up my blackberry.

"Just take a sec, baby." I say mimicking his suave behaviour when he's making an important call.

Christian's brow furrows as he watches me with suspicion.

"Yes, this Ana Grey." I say, replying to the cheery secretary that answered my call. "I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. Flynn, today if at all possible."

"Of course, Mrs. Grey. I can fit you in for ten, if that works for you." She says, and I glance at the alarm clock.

"That's perfect. I'll see you then. Thank you." I say before hanging up.

Christian is staring at me with wide eyes.

"If you aren't interested in talking to me or addressing my feelings, I'll talk to someone who WANTS to help me work on my marriage." I say, glaring at him a beat longer before heading toward the bathroom to shower.

"Ana!" Christian calls, and I hear him walking toward the bathroom just as I close the door.

"I need some privacy, Mr. Grey. I have to be at Flynn's office in an hour." I call through the door, smirking to myself.

"Baby, open the door." He says more quietly, in a soothing tone, as if he's trying to entice me out of the bathroom.

"What did you say? I can't hear you?" I call back, turning on the water and stripping off my night gown.

"Anastasia, you're being very difficult!" He calls, shaking the door knob.

Oooh, full name? Does he really think I'm not smart enough to lock the door? Really, Grey, get with the program.

…

"You're not really going to talk to Flynn right now, are you?" He asks as I jump and wiggle, squeezing into my jeans.

"Of course I am." I say as casually as I can while grunting as I thrust my hips forward and yank my jeans up by the belt loops.

Christian is laughing at me. I can tell, even with his horribly concealed throat clear and his hand over his mouth.

"Don't test me, Grey." I warn, laying down on the bed and reaching under my belly to pull the zipper. "You could help me, you know." I mutter, trying to fasten the button.

"I'm enjoying this far too much." He replies, but he walks around the bed nonetheless and kneels between my dangling legs.

Against my own will, I sigh as he runs his hands up the tops of my thighs, unnecessarily, toward the button of my jeans. I feel, rather than see, his lips brush against the underside of my robust blimp of a stomach as his deft fingers pop the button into its hole.

He stands up far too soon, leaving me bereft, but I haul myself to my feet again, intent on standing my ground.

"I'll see you in a bit." I say, leaning up to kiss his cheek before wandering out of the bedroom.

"Ana, you're not going." He says, raising a challenging brow at me.

"Oh, are you going to talk to me then?" I ask, crossing my arms and giving him the patented Christian Grey head tilt.

"Not about this. It doesn't concern you or our marriage." He says, crossing his arms over his chest in a similar fashion.

"Then I am going, and you can't stop me." I say, blowing him a kiss before stalking toward the foyer, my heels clicking loudly as I move.

"Anastasia, I said no." He says, and I glare defiantly at him as I press the elevator button.

"I'm not your sub. I'm your wife, and if I feel that I need to discuss something with our marriage councilor because you're being a stubborn arse, then I will!"

He smirks at me, and I want to throw something at him.

"Arse?" He asks, and I roll my eyes.

"Ass!" I snap, as the elevator doors open.

"I like arse." He says, putting his hand against the door so that they won't close. "Taylor!" He calls and I roll my eyes.

"Sir?" He asks, stepping into the foyer from god knows where he was hiding.

"Please accompany Mrs. Grey. Sawyer, Ryan, and Prescott are with the children. I'll be fine here for a few hours." He says, raising an eyebrow at me as if daring me to object.

I cross my arms as Taylor boards the elevator, glaring at Christian.

"Laters, baby." I mutter as the elevator doors close between our challenging eyes.

"Where are we heading?" Taylor asks after a moment of tense silence.

"Dr. Flynn's office, and then my in-laws' to pick up the children." I reply softly. "Thank you."

"Anytime." He says, offering me a small smile.

"I suppose you know what's going on." I say as the elevator carries us to the garage.

"Yes, Ma'am." He says almost hesitantly, using the formal address to warn me off, I assume.

"I suppose you're also not going to tell me, though, right?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"No, Ma'am." He says, not daring to turn his head toward me.

"Thought so." I mutter petulantly.

Taylor is the only one I can't bully information out of. He's been with Christian much longer than I have, and he, like Christian, is not at all intimidated by me. He's secure in his job, and frankly, he should be. I don't think Christian would ever find reason to fire Taylor, nor do I think Taylor would ever give him a reason to. They're too loyal to each other, not that that is a bad thing. I'm glad they have each other.

Sawyer is also a tough nut to crack, but I've been able to weasel a morsel or two from him on a few occasions.

The rest of them, those are my moles, but they get the bottom of the barrel on information, probably because Christian knows I can get it out of them.

…

Talking to Flynn was helpful. He reiterated Christian's need to control everything and his need to protect me from the evils of the world, but understood MY need to be included in matters that affect our family. I feel validated, even if Christian won't speak to me. At least I know that I'm not being completely hormonal and irrational by wanting to know what's going on. I'm not his child. I'm his wife.

"You two head home." Taylor tells Prescott and Ryan.

They look to me, and I feel as if I've won a little victory. Yes, I am the boss right now, aren't I?

"You've been on for fifteen hours straight." I say, feeling sympathetic. "Take the day off. We're heading home now anyways. Taylor and Sawyer can handle it."

They both nod, and after having their little security pow-wow debrief in the Grey driveway, Ryan and Prescott get into Ryan's car and head for home.

"Oh, Ana, Darling!" Grace calls, running out the door in her slippers waving at me. "I forgot to pack Eli's blanket back into his bag." She says, gasping for air.

"Oh, thank goodness we didn't leave without this!" I say dramatically, grinning at Eli sitting on my hip with his thumb in his mouth.

"Goodbye, darling." She says, crouching down to kiss CJ once more before we load into the back of the Audi. "And my handsome boy." She says, standing back up to kiss Eli.

"Bye, Grandma!" CJ shouts, climbing into her carseat.

"Can you say bye bye to Grandma?" I ask Eli, kissing his temple.

"No." He says, around his thumb, shaking his head gently before burying it into my neck.

"He missed you." She says, stroking his blond hair. "I love you, my precious babies!" She says, waving as I strap the kids into their seats.

"Thank you." I say, hugging Grace again. "We really appreciate you guys taking them so often. With the house hunting, and this whole missing friend thing, Christian is just under so much pressure." I say in a hushed tone.

"We love having them. I can't wait until this one and Katherine and Elliott's two are born. We'll have a house full of little ones all over again." She gushes. "I'll let you get those two home. They haven't had lunch yet, but I packed a couple of apple slices in the front pocket of CJ's backpack for the ride." She says, and I smile gratefully.

My children hate being in the car. Those apples will definitely come in handy.

…

"Mrs. Grey, please ensure that you and the children are buckled properly." Sawyer says, and I meet Taylor's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, double checking CJ and Eli's seatbelts.

"We have a suspicious vehicle tailing us ma'am. We're going to attempt a maneuver to lose them." Sawyer says, sounding very professional.

"Have you called Christian?" I ask, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

"I'm here, baby." Christian's disembodied voice says from the phone sitting in the speaker dock. "Just follow their instructions and buckle up." He continues, and I can hear the sound of his R8 through the phone. "I'm on my way. I'm tracking you on the GPS. I'll meet you and cut this fucker off."

"Okay." I murmur, glancing over my shoulder.

"How are my babies?" He asks, and I glance from our son to our daughter.

"They're sleeping." I answer, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Just relax then, baby. Let Taylor and Sawyer handle this."

"Christian…" I say, because it's all I can manage. I'm afraid, for me, but mostly for my children.

"I'm coming." He says, his voice adamant, drilling his promise into my head. "Taylor, when did you notice the car?"

I lean back against the seat, closing my eyes and listening to my husband go into business mode.

After a few moments, I open my eyes, dizzy from all of the swerving and maneuvering through traffic at high speeds.

"It looks like we lost them, Sir." Taylor says as we slow down to a more normal pace. "I'll have Welch run the –"

Taylor's cut off as something slams into our car from the side. I scream, and I can hear Christian calling my name as the car flips once before skidding down to the bottom of the hill off the side of a small river bridge.

When I open my eyes, Taylor and Sawyer are trying to get out of the car, asking if we're all okay. CJ and Eli are screaming, and I feel disoriented. My door flies open and a woman in dark clothing and a ski mask is standing there. I know I should move, fight, but I can't. My movements are delayed, and I feel myself reaching for the kids.

I hear a shot, and look over to see Taylor holding his gun, but another two shots follow, and someone else in the same black get-up as this woman is holding a gun in our direction.

"Taylor! Sawyer!" I scream over CJ and Eli's crying, but they don't reply.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Grey." The masked woman says, and I struggle briefly as something covers my mouth and nose before everything goes black.

…


	5. Sex, Lies, and Accusations

A/N: So here it is, ladies & jellybeans, boys & germs, Chapter Five & Christian's POV debut! It's a short part, but the next chapter is entirely Christian's POV (I think!) I'm still working on Chapter 8. It's a little slow going because I know where I want to get this part of the story, but I'm not sure I'm happy with how I've written it yet. I'm almost tempted to scrap the entire chapter and begin again. At least I have a few chapters I can post to stall in the meantime =]

**Chapter 5 – Sex, Lies & Accusations:**

**- - - PRESENT DAY: 24 HOURS MISSING - - -**

"I don't want excuses! I want results!" I yell at the detective standing in my living room.

"Mr. Grey, we've searched Mr. Hyde's home. You've given us a description of your wife, and we've put out an APB on her. The best thing for you to do now—"

"Don't fucking tell me what I should be doing when you're standing here instead of out looking for my wife!" I shout, wanting to beat the shit out of this idiot.

I take a deep breath, looking at the fearful expressions on CJ and Eli's faces. I see Gail, peeking out of the doorway in Taylor's office, her eyes darting from me to the children. I realize she wants to come and take them but isn't sure if I'd approve of her interrupting my confrontation with Detective Clark.

I nod and watch her bustle out of the office and over to the children.

"Come now, let's go and play in your bedroom." She murmurs, picking up Eli and taking CJ's hand before disappearing down the hall.

"Two women with connections to Hyde have gone missing." I say, challenging Clark's reasons for not hunting Hyde down as a suspect.

"Two women and a man who have direct connections to you are missing, Mr. Grey. Should I be questioning you?" He asks, taking out his notepad.

"MY WIFE IS MISSING!" I shout.

"I'm aware. Mr Hyde used to work for Grey Publishing, did he not?" Clark asks, and I narrow my eyes. "And Ms. Alexander was your… ?" He asks, unsure because I've been as vague as possible regarding my relationship with Danielle.

"Friend." I answer tersely.

"Friend… all right. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now, your friend and a man you fired several months ago have been in a relationship." He says, and I'm not sure I like his tone.

"What are you getting at?" I ask, raising a brow at this moron.

"I'm wondering if Ms. Alexander's relationship with Mr. Hyde had anything to do with you wanting him off your payroll." He clarifies, though I already knew what he was getting at. "Maybe you fired him because you still have feelings for Danielle Alexander. Maybe you thought it would serve as payback for stealing your girl. Maybe you decided it wasn't enough, so you got rid of them, and maybe your wife found out, and you had to get rid of her too." He says.

"That sounds like a whole lot of maybes, Detective." I say, glaring directly into his eyes.

"Well, that's my job Mr. Grey, to think outside of the box, to find out what skeletons people are hiding in their closets." He says. "Have you got any skeletons?"

"Not that I'm aware of." I reply coolly.

"It says here," He says, flipping a page in his notepad. "That you and your wife have been seeing a therapist, a, uh, Dr. John Flynn."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I ask, feeling violated that this man has information I didn't personally provide him with.

"Well, were you having troubles in your marriage?" He asks, his tone cocky, as if he already knows the answer.

"No, we were interested in improving our relationship, not fixing problems." I explain vaguely.

"Is it true that your wife went to see Dr. Flynn alone yesterday, prior to being abducted?" He asks, and I narrow my eyes.

Flynn isn't allowed to even admit that I'm his patient without my consent. Doctor/Patient privilege prevents this entirely. This asshole is grasping at straws, trying to get me to slip up and say something.

"Detective Clark, I'm not a suspect in your case. I'm a man who wants you and your incompetent posse of snot nosed rookies to find my goddamn wife. If you want to question me as a suspect, get in touch with my lawyer and address your questions to him. In the meantime, get the fuck out of my house."

I watch him smirk as he leaves, the cocky bastard. He should be looking for my wife and Danielle, not assuming I've gone on an insane killing spree and murdered three people. When the hell would I have had the time between running my company, looking for a house, and reading every book I can find on childbirth and labour?

"Keep a hold on that temper, Mr. Grey." Clark says as the elevator doors close.

He has yet to see my temper at full force.

…

* * *

"Hey." Danielle whispers, leaning her head against my aching shoulder and waking me up.

I didn't hear her come back, but the sun is up, and I wonder how long I've been sleeping. I look awkwardly at her, why is she cuddling with me?

"Hi." I mutter, wishing I could move around. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." She says softly, though she doesn't move. "I brought breakfast." She continues.

"Oh." I say, because I can't think of anything else. "Did he… did he hurt you?" I ask, broaching the question as vaguely as I can.

"No more than usual." She says. "Can I touch it?" She asks, her voice sounding so melancholy, like a sad little girl.

I frown, wondering what she's talking about.

"Your belly." She clarifies, as if she can read my thoughts.

"Oh, yea." I answer. "Go ahead."

As soon as her hand makes contact, the baby becomes even more active than it had been the entire time I've been here. I welcome the added activity, though. It's proof that he or she is still doing all right in there.

_**… … …**_

"_What's that?!" CJ exclaims, yanking her hand away from my swollen stomach as a ripple moves under her hand._

"_I'm thinking that was a hand." I say with a giggle. "Your baby brother or sister was giving you a high five." _

"_It has hands?!" She asks, warily placing her palm back down against my skin. _

"_Of course!" I laugh, wondering what she thinks a baby looks like. _

"_It's moving again!" She squeals, and I cover her hand with mine, letting her feel the ripples of movement. _

"_I think he or she really likes you." I say, winking at my daughter._

"_I hope so." She says softly before lowering her mouth to my stomach. "I'm going to keep you under my bed, so I can play with you whenever I want." She murmurs._

"_The baby will have a nursery to sleep in." Christian says, walking into the bedroom with Eli in his arms, freshly bathed and wrapped in a fluffy white towel._

"_Why can't it sleep in my room?" CJ asks, placing a hand on either side of my stomach and her cheek against the center. "It sounds like the ocean. I wanna sleep here." She murmurs softly. _

_I smile, stroking a wayward curl away from her face. _

_**… … …**_

I sit uncomfortably as Danielle gently rests her cheek against my stomach, listening to the baby move inside of me. She stays, motionless, in this position for a long time. I feel her shudder and a soft sob escapes her lips before I realize she's crying.

I sigh, letting her listen to the soothing sounds of my baby ocean. Whatever he did to her, and I'm sure that it's far worse than any situation my brain is capable of concocting; it's broken her, and she just needs this human contact, this moment of comfort.

…

It feels like ages that we've been sitting here, Danielle softly crying into my stomach, her hair brushing against my exposed skin where my shirt has ridden up. I take note that it's some what damp, so he must have allowed her to wash it.

"Do you hear that?" I ask, looking up into the darkness of the ceiling.

"It's the floorboards." She says quietly.

"Listen, though. He's pacing." I point out, my eyes following the sounds as he moves back and forth above us.

The door at the top of the stairs suddenly flies open, and Jack comes barreling down.

"Come here." He says. "Get up!" He shouts more urgently, grabbing Danielle by the arm and yanking her away from me.

He pushes her toward the far wall where a wooden bench is placed in the corner.

I hear the clinking of metal chains, but I can't see much across the dimly lit space.

"Open." He says, and I wonder what he's doing to her.

He moves away from her, coming toward me and crouching down.

"I'm expecting some company." He says, dangling a ball gag in front of my face. "I'll need you two to keep it down." He continues, forcing my mouth open and fastening the buckle behind my head.

I grunt angrily, kicking my legs toward him, but he grabs my face in one of his large hands.

"Keep it up, Ana. The bears will have you and your baby for lunch."

_Bears?_ I wonder. Are we in an area with bears?

…

I steady my breathing, hoping Danielle is okay. She hasn't moved or made any sounds since Jack took her to the bench on the other side of the room.

I hear something, like knocking, and look up at the dark ceiling. Someone is here.

"Mr. Hyde." I hear a muffled voice say.

"Sheriff, your deputy said you'd be stopping by." Jack replies. "What can I do for you?"

"Just have a couple of questions. Police in Seattle are looking for some missing women that you've been known to associate with." The muffled Sheriff's voice replies.

"Really? Maybe we'd better sit down." Jack muffles back.

I hear them walk heavily across the floor above me and then the movement stops.

"You know a woman named Danielle Alexander?" The Sheriff asks.

"Yes, we dated for a short time." Jack replies, and I want to kick his smooth talking teeth down his throat.

"She's been reported missing. You don't know anything about that?" The sheriff asks.

"No, my god, how long has he been missing?" Jack asks, and I almost believe the concern in his voice.

"Several months, actually. Seems you and Miss Alexander were meant to take a vacation together…" The sheriff starts, and Jack cuts him off.

"Yes, we were, but we broke up the day before we were scheduled to leave. We had an argument after running into her ex-boyfriend. She said she wasn't over him and wanted to try again. I, honestly, she was young and probably a bad idea for me to be involved with, but I care for her. I was upset. I've been here ever since. I'd recently lost my job, so I decided it might be a good idea to just get away from the city for a while." He explains.

"You mind if I take a look around the place, Jack?" The sheriff asks, and I feel my heart swell.

_YES! SEARCH THE PLACE! _My subconscious screams.

"Of course not, sheriff. Like I said, I'm here alone, have been for months. No tv, no phone, just me and the wild." Jack says, and I hear them get up from the couch and begin walking again. "I wish I'd known that Danielle was missing. I'd like to help out in any way that I can."

"Well, we'd also like to ask if you know anything about the disappearance of Anastasia Grey?" He asks, and I close my eyes in relief.

Obviously, Christian knows I'm missing, but after my first night here, I wondered if I'd be like Danielle, unnoticed and trapped in this dungeon for months without a single person looking for her.

"Grey?" Jack asks, sounding genuinely confused. "Oh! Ana Steele! She married Christian Grey, didn't she?" He goes on. "Yes, I know her, sort of, not personally, mind you. She was my assistant about five, six years ago at the publishing company I worked for."

"Grey Publishing?" The sheriff asks, and I hear Jack laugh bitterly.

"Well, that name change is actually a recent development, sheriff. Back when I worked there with Ana Steele, it was SIP." Jack explains.

"Mr. Grey recently purchased the company, correct? Shortly before you were let go, it says here." The sheriff says.

"Yes, well, I did hear that he had purchased the company, but I wasn't aware of it until after I was fired. Actually, the reasons for my dismissal are… somewhat embarrassing. I was caught making use of my office is a less than ethical way with a date of mine." Jack says, and I feel bile rising in my throat.

I listen carefully as their footsteps get closer to the door, but it seems like they walk right over it. Knowing Jack, there's probably a tacky rug hiding the door.

I grunt, trying to make noise, to draw the sheriff's attention to something other than Jack's lame attempts at sounding innocent. I kick my bare feet against the concrete floor, but it's useless. I'm hurting myself and making virtually no noise.

"Well, thanks for your time, Jack. Don't stay out, here holed up and broken hearted for too much longer." The sheriff says, and Jack laughs.

"I'm glad to help, sheriff. Please, let me know if you find any information on Ana and Danielle, and… I didn't want to say anything, but Christian Grey, he's… got a dark side, and I know that Danielle dated him for a while. It just sounds fishy to me that two women who have been romantically involved with Grey are now missing." Jack says, and I grunt around my gag.

How dare he accuse my husband! He'd never do this to me! Well, most of this anyway, and it would be with my permission. I'm pissed off. Danielle still hasn't made a sound, not that I think her added effort would have made much difference, but it would have been nice to feel like I had her support.

A few moments after I hear the door close, the cellar door opens, flooding the room with light as Jack comes down.

"You see how easy that was for me? Nobody suspects that you're here." He says, removing my ball gag before walking over to where he left Danielle.

"If the sheriff knows you're here, Christian will know you're here too, and he won't buy any of your bullshit!" I snap, as he fiddles with the chains he put on Danielle.

"Christian Grey is dead." He says, his voice cold and his face turning up in a malicious grin.

I gasp, and I hear Danielle do the same.

"I'm so sorry for you loss, _Mrs. Grey."_ He sneers, and I close my eyes.

He's lying. He has to be lying. Everything he says is a lie. Christian isn't dead. He's coming for me. He'll be bursting through that door, guns blazing, any minute.

I stare at the eerily lit staircase, willing my husband to come storming down them, but he doesn't. What if he's not coming?

…

"He really hates, Mr. Grey." Danielle says, curling up against me with her head on my belly.

"I know." I reply softly, stroking her hair. "I just don't know why he hates him this much." I say, glancing around the room.

"All his life, everything Jack's ever wanted, ever tried to get, he says Mr. Grey took it from him." Danielle explains.

"What does that mean? Christian only met Jack through me." I say, trying to hide my irritation.

"He was never actually interested in me for me. He knew I was with Mr. Grey… with-with him. He's been trying to—he wants a baby. He wants a family, _you're_ family. He wants Christian's life." She says, sitting up and staring into my face. "I've had two miscarriages since I've been here."

As the realization of what's happening begins to settle, I feel bile rising up in my throat. I lean my head away from Danielle and throw up on my leg.

"That's why…" I stammer, gagging on the rancid taste in my mouth. "That's why he wanted CJ? Why he hasn't tried to hurt me?"

"He wants to take possess the most important things in Christian Grey's life. He wants your baby." She says softly, placing her hand on my stomach again. "I'll take care of the baby, like it's my own, Ana. I promise you, he or she will be loved."

I stare, wide eyed and terrified of this woman for the first time since I've been here.

"Get away from me." I mutter, unable to speak around the lump in my throat. "Get the fuck away from me!" She looks wounded, like I've just rejected her or taken her favourite toy from her.

"But…" She starts, and I jerk my arm, pushing her away from my body. I watch her rise to her feet and stroll away into the darkness of the room.

"Christian." I whisper, wishing he could hear me, could get me out of this place.

I give up. I can't be strong anymore. I've tried to hold on to every fiber of strength in my being, but it's gone. I let go, allowing my tears flow freely, and I sob heavily.


	6. All By Myself

A/N: Wow! A lot of you are really concerned with the fate of Ana and the baby (as you should be), but in that concern, some of you are wondering if you want to keep reading the story because you don't want to see anything bad happen to them. **If you'd like me to tell you what the fate of Ana or the baby will be, please feel free to inbox me, and I'll try to address your concerns.  
**

Now, how about I treat all you lovelies to a Christian POV? I know this part is a little shorter, but I didn't want to lose the significance of Christian's POV by going back to Ana in the end of the chapter.

**Chapter 6 – All By Myself:**

I can't breathe without her. My chest aches, and my lungs physically sting with every breath I inhale.

Where is she?! Why can't I find her? With all of my resources, all of Welch's digging, what is it that we're missing?

I roll over, letting my hand rest against the cold space that Ana usually occupies.

**… … …**

_I glance at the alarm clock on the table next to my hotel bed, and wonder if Ana is still awake. It's only just before 3:00 in the afternoon for me, but she's sixteen hours behind. I miss her, and I can't bear to be away from her. It's late for her though; she's probably asleep, but I can't help myself. I pick up my iPad and open a video chat with her, hoping she'll answer. _

"_Hey." She says as her sleepy face fills my screen. _

"_I didn't mean to wake you." I say softly, and she smiles._

"_I was actually working in bed. I must have fallen asleep." She replies, adjusting herself against the pillows. _

"_It's long past your bedtime, Mrs. Grey. You shouldn't be working." I tell her, wishing she'd take a break once in a while. _

"_It's only…" She pauses. "11:55PM. It's not THAT late." She finishes. "Besides, I'm talking to my husband. He's very far from home right now." _

"_Yes, I can understand how hard that is. I'm very far from my wife right now as well."I say, playing along with her little game. _

"_I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Grey. I'm sure she misses you terribly." She says, giving me a small smile, though I can see the pout on her lips._

"_I miss her, too." I reply softly, leaning into the plush pillows on the bed. "I wish I was holding her right now."_

"_She wishes that too." Ana whispers back. _

"_I wish I was kissing her soft lips." I say, and I watch her bite her lower lip. "Don't do that to me, baby." I whisper, and she blushes. _

"_What are you going to do about it?" She challenges, her eyes full of lust and her cheeks a soft pink hue. _

_I close my eyes, wishing I could show exactly what I want to do about it. _

"_Anastasia, right now, I'd give anything to take you over my knee…" I say, contemplating whether or not I want to say the rest of my thought out loud. _

_This is my wife, the mother of my children, the woman I'm spending my life with. I can say this to her. She won't reject me. She won't turn me away. _

"_I just wish you were here, so I could hold you while we slept, so I could hear you breathing and listen to you whisper how much you love me in your sleep." I finally tell her, feeling myself take on a blush of my own._

"_I wish that too." She answers without hesitation, smiling softly at me. _

"_You should get some rest." I tell her, not wanting to keep her awake much longer. _

"_Is that an order, Sir?" She asks, tilting her head to the side and grinning at me._

"_Yes. I have to prepare my notes for my dinner meeting." I tell her, though I really would rather lie in bed and have torrid video chats with my wife._

"_I love you." She says, blowing me a kiss. _

"_I love you too, baby. I'll call before I go to bed."I promise her, and she nods._

"_Hang up, Mr. Grey." She tells me, grinning at me._

"_You hang up." I reply playfully. _

"_I'm a pregnant lady, Sir. I need my rest, and you need to go charm the pants off of some business guys." She says, and I smirk._

"_Yours are the only pants I'd like to be charming off." I say, grinning as I'm rewarded with a cheeky smile from her. _

"_I'm not wearing any pants." She says in a shy whisper as a blush creeps over her face._

"_Prove it." I reply, wondering how far she'll let me take this. _

_She grins, and I see her adjusting herself, the iPad shaking enough to give me a headache. Eventually, it stops, and I realize she's propped it up on the end of the bed and is now kneeling up by the pillows. I can see her entire body from just below her breasts, and she wasn't lying; she's not wearing pants._

"_My, my, Mrs. Grey, how very adventurous of you." I say, watching as she moves the pale blue camisole she's wearing up and caresses the roundness of her tummy. She traces the waistband of the scant pair of panties she's wearing, and I can't help but smile._

**… … …**

I've always had trouble sleeping without her, after that first night with her in my bed at the Heathman. It makes it even harder now, knowing she's somewhere, possibly hurt, with a monster holding her captive.

I get up out of the bed, realizing that there isn't a point in being in it. I know I won't sleep, and if I do, I'll be tormented by nightmares of what might be happening to my wife. I make my way into my study and pick up the phone.

"Clark." The brusque voice answers.

"Detective, it's Christian Grey. I hadn't heard from you this afternoon, and I wondered if you had any further information." I say, trying to sound polite, despite my dislike of this asshole.

"Mr. Grey, it's after midnight." Clark says, though he doesn't sound as if I've just woken him from some peaceful slumber.

"And yet we're both awake, probably stressing over the same issues." I point out.

"I suppose we are." He agrees, and I wonder if I'm still his prime suspect.

He met with my father earlier today, but Carrick never did tell me what they discussed in detail.

"Is there any information about my wife and Ms. Alexander's whereabouts?" I ask.

"We located Hyde." He says, sounding reluctant. "The county Sheriff searched his property and came up with nothing. We don't think he's involved."

"I already knew that you searched his apartment. Where was he hiding?" I ask, sitting on the edge of my chair.

"No, he was at his cabin." Clark clarifies. "Listen, Grey, I can't just give feed you information about an ongoing case. We have no leads right now, and that's all I can tell you." He says before hanging up on me.

I glare at the phone. Hyde has a cabin somewhere. Why hasn't this come up in Welch's search? I dial his number, anxiously waiting as the call connects and the ringing fills my troubled ears.

"Welch!" I snap as soon as I hear the telltale click of the call being picked up.

"Sir?" He asks, sounding surprised.

"Hyde has a cabin somewhere. Why haven't you given me this information?" I ask, not caring for pleasantries.

"None of his records show any owned property, Sir, just the apartment. I gave you the addresses for his parents' residence in Spokane. That's all we've got on him in terms of hiding places." Welch explains, but I know differently, and I'm getting angrier as the seconds tick by.

"I just spoke with Detective Clark. He informed me that they sent the country Sherriff out to search Hyde's cabin. He was there, and they found nothing suspicious. I want to know where that cabin is, Welch!" I shout before slamming the phone down.

I lean back in my chair, contemplating how an idiot like Jack Hyde could mask the fact that he has property somewhere. Whose name would he put it in? Where would he purchase land? It would have to be someplace off of the beaten path because, if I know my wife, and I do, she'd be screaming bloody murder until someone heard her, or until …

I close my eyes. I'm not going to think along those lines. Not now. Not when we have a lead to work with.

Instead of dwelling on thoughts of my wife enduring some ungodly slow death, I pick up the phone and dial my mother's cell.

"Darling, you should be asleep." She says, her voice soothing my nerves, at least somewhat.

"I wanted to check on Sawyer and Taylor." I inform her, not wanting to pull her into the investigation.

"They're improving, Christian." She assures me, though I'm not sure.

I heard Gail come home a few hours ago. She left instructions for reheating the breakfast casserole in the refrigerator and then made a hasty retreat to her quarters. Even when she's positively devastated, she takes care of me. I make a mental note to give her a raise and some kind of bonus when all of this is over.

"How are the children?" She asks, and I hesitate.

"They're fine, mom." I assure her, though I know she wants more of an answer.

**… … …**

"_How come we have to go away, Daddy?" CJ asks as I help her into the car._

"_Because I want you to be safe." I tell her for the third time in the last hour. _

"_I want to stay home with you." She whines, hugging my neck. _

"_You're going to have a good time with your Uncle Elliott, and your aunties. I assure her, watching Mia come sulking down the front steps of my parent's house, with a very pregnant Kate trailing behind her._

"_You have everything you need?" I ask Elliott as he climbs into the passenger seat next to Ryan. _

"_Got it." He assures me, knowing I'm talking about the disposable phone I gave him with strict instructions how to use it. _

"_And you've all left your phones behind, correct?" I ask, wishing it would be appropriate to search them all and personally confirm this._

"_Yes, Christian!" Mia grumbles. "I don't know why I have to go. I'm an adult!" She whines, clearly contradicting this statement._

_I grasp her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. _

"_I want to know that you're safe, Mia. I can't take any risks or overlook anything." I say, though she still looks irritated. "I need you to help me protect my children while I find out who is trying to hurt us." _

"_Okay." She says, nodding her acceptance before throwing her arms around my neck. _

"_Thank you." I whisper, kissing the side of her head. "Get in the car." _

_She climbs into the middle row of the SUV I purchased with cash and a false identity, and looks out at me. _

"_Be careful." She whispers, and I nod, knowing she needs this reassurance. _

_I watch, heartbroken as the SUV carrying most of my family pulls out of the driveway, followed by Prescott, and headed up by Reynolds, in exact duplicates of the vehicle. _

_I tried to send Gail, though she put up quite an impressive fight, insisting that she needed to be here with Taylor. _

"_Ana's parents will be arriving tonight. I've already informed the security detail that Welch sent over, so they'll be here when you get home." I tell my mother, wanting to her to aware that her house won't be empty when she arrives home in the early hours of the morning, after my father has already left for work. _

"_You be careful, Christian. You find her, but you be careful." She says, hugging me tightly. _

_I nod firmly, kissing her cheek and waiting while she makes her way back inside of the house. I nod to the security officer standing next to the front door, climbing into the R8 and speed out of the driveway. _

**… … …**

Clark wasn't happy when I told him that the only two witnesses he'd be able to speak to were out of town, but I'd already spoken to them; I already had Welch interview CJ and Eli to confirm I didn't miss anything. They didn't see anything that would help, and they don't need to be interrogated by that asshole with a power trip and a badge.

"How long are you planning to keep them hidden?" She asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

"As long as it takes to nail this fucker to the wall." I say, and hear her clear her voice. "Sorry." I mutter guiltily.

"I've got to go, Darling. An MVA just came into the ER. We'll talk soon." She says quickly before hanging up without waiting for my response.

Doctor Mom; saving the world, one terrible driver at a time.

…

I start, realizing I must have dozed off in my chair, when Gail knocks on the door of my study. I sit up, running my hand through my hair and welcome her in.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir, but you have Mr. Welch on the line." She says, handing me the cordless house phone. "Also, this was delivered while you were sleeping." She says, handing me a large manila envelope.

I toss the envelope on my desk, uninterested in working at the moment, and I eye the phone suspiciously, wondering why Welch would call that number instead of my blackberry or my business line.

"Thank you, Gail." I say before she hurries out of my office. "Welch, what do you have?" I ask.

"Nothing we don't already know, Sir. Hyde doesn't own, nor has he ever owned, a cabin anywhere." Welch informs me.

"Well, he damn well does now! Clark knows where it is. It's got to be in their files. Get me an address, Welch!" I snap before hanging up and whipping the phone across the room.

I know Welch has resources that he can access in a pinch, resources that work on the police force and could lose their jobs if caught leaking information, but I don't care at this point. I want that address.

I'll tear that cabin down board by board until I find Ana, and I'll slaughter Jack Hyde with my last dying breath if I have to.

…


	7. In Control

****A/N: I have no notes for this post, but it feels naked without a little blurb up here. =] Christian's POV is coming up in Chapter 8 ;)

**Chapter 7 – In Control:**

"I thought you'd be happy." Danielle says, breaking the long stretch of silence after I finally stopped crying.

"Don't speak to me." I say through gritted teeth.

"Don't you want your baby to be loved?" She asks, as if THAT is what I have the problem with.

"You think it's perfectly acceptable to steal my baby, just because you'll make sure he's loved?" I snap. "What do you freaks intend on doing to me once you have my baby?"

I instantly feel bad about calling her freak and bunching her into the same twisted category as Jack, but at this point, I can't care about anyone but my baby.

"We're having a boy?" She asks, her voice startling me with how close she is now. I hadn't even heard her move toward me.

"WE are not having anything. My husband and I are possibly having a son, but we haven't found out! It doesn't matter. I will not deliver my baby here. He's going to be born in a hospital, with doctors and clean floors, and absolutely no crazy ex bosses!"

"You should calm down. You don't want to stress yourself out." She says in a patronizing tone.

"What the hell are you on!?" I ask, noting how different she is right now. She's acting as if she's here by choice, starting a loving family with a man who is keeping her locked in his basement.

"Jack gives me some stuff to mellow me out. I always feel so much better after he gives me the pills. It's really for the best for me to be here. We're going to be so happy soon." She says, sitting next to me and rubbing my pained shoulders.

"Don't touch me." I say, feeling defeated.

She sighs, and gets up, walking away from me.

I hear a knocking on the latch door at the top of the stairs, and I realize she's trying to get his attention.

"Danielle, please, don't call him down here." I beg, feeling myself begin to panic. "Please, I don't want him to come."

"I'm getting our lunch." She says as if I'm a deranged lunatic for thinking something dangerous was about to happen.

"Oh." I say, taking several deep breaths.

The light floods the space, and I hear bits and pieces of their hushed exchange before Jack comes down the stairs.

"I'm going to unlock one of your hands, so you can adjust your arms and eat your own food." He says in a soft voice as if he's doing me some kind of favour.

"Oh, how nice of you." I reply sarcastically.

"Don't make me put the gag back on." He warns, his eyes glaring directly into mine.

I swallow hard, biting back my angry words and the bitter taste in my mouth. The last thing I need is to push the wrong button.

"Look Ana! We get popcorn!" Danielle exclaims, and she reminds me of an excited child. Actually, she reminds me of my own excited child.

**… … …**

"_I want those!" CJ squeals pointing to a box of overpriced candy in the glass display case. "No! I want those!" She squeals again, pointing to another box. _

"_How about some popcorn?" I suggest, and her face lights up._

"_POPCORN!" She screams, attracting the attention of other patrons. _

"_We could have just had the movie brought to the screening room at Escala." Christian mutters, not liking the unwanted attention and the feeling of not being in control._

"_It's CJ's birthday, and we're having family night outside of the confines of your ivory tower, in the real world, with real people who don't work for you." I explain, but he doesn't seem impressed. _

"_It just seems silly to come out and sit in filthy seats, surrounded by people we haven't done background checks on, eating questionable food prepared by just as questionable people." He argues, and I cross my arms at him._

"_Your daughter wanted to go out for a nice evening for her birthday. The least you can do is pretend that you're enjoying yourself." I mutter, becoming more and more irritated with his control freakery._

"_A little help here!" CJ says, and we turn around to see her holding the largest tub of popcorn the theatre sells in her tiny arms. "Sooooo, what are you guys having?" She asks, looking from Christian's face to mine. _

_Simultaneously, we both burst out laughing._

"_You think you can eat all that? Why don't we share?" Christian suggests, but CJ shakes her head. _

"_I LOVE POPCORN!" She squeals, hugging the tub even tighter. _

"_Are you going to pay for that?" The pimple-faced teenager behind the counter asks._

"_Yes, and you can add three small sodas and four large." I tell him, looking up at the menu. "And we'll take an order of nachos, heavy on the cheese if you can, and maybe some of those chocolate covered almonds." I continue. _

"_Ana, are you hungry?" Christian asks, and I glance nervously from his face to Taylor's, to Gail's and back again. _

"_Why? I like variety…" I defend, though I have noticed a peak in my appetite and a change in what foods I've been desiring. _

"_Nothing, baby, get whatever you want." Christian says, and I turn back to the counter, but there's something in his voice I don't quite like._

"_Oh, and can we get some small empty popcorn tubs." I ask, intent on splitting the enormous tub of popcorn in my daughter's clutches between CJ, Eli, and Sophie before she makes herself sick eating the salty treat. _

…

"_Uhhhhhh." CJ moans, flopping down onto the sofa next to me. "My tummy is angry." _

"_Mine too." I grumble, a she snuggles into my side._

"_I feel perfectly fine. You know why? Because I did not gorge myself on popcorn and nachos and candy." Christian says, popping a grape into his mouth as he joins us on the sofa. _

"_It was so good." CJ mumbles. _

"_Totally worth it." I agree, leaning my head on Christian shoulder._

_We sit in silence for a long while, accepting our fate of a night full of indigestion._

"_Is there any popcorn left?" CJ asks, breaking the silence._

_Christian and I both sit up, looking at her with disbelief, as she shrugs innocently._

"_I really love popcorn." She says. "This was the best birthday ever! Even better than the party at Grandma's house." She says, and I can't help but smile. _

**… … …**

"When are you due?" Jack asks casually, as if we're sitting down to discuss authors in the SIP conference room.

I ignore him, glaring defiantly into his face. I'm tempted to spit at him, but I'm afraid he'll gag me again, and I'm actually starving.

"Look about eight, eight and half months." He says, in the same casual tone. "I'm only asking because I want to make this process as comfortable for you as possible, Ana."

"Comfortable?" I ask skeptically.

"Ana, once you stop fighting me and making such snarky comments, maybe you'll get more privileges. The rest of the cabin is actually quite lovely." He says, winking at Danielle.

"Thanks, but I know what kind of 'privileges' you provide upstairs, and I'm not interested." I say through clenched teeth.

"Jack is a wonderful lover." Danielle says in a high pitched, girly tone.

"Thank you, Dani. Just for that, you can bring your lunch upstairs and watch a movie with me." He says, and I watch Danielle's face light up as she grabs her popcorn and hurries to stand at the bottom of the stairs. "We'll leave Ana to eat her lunch in privacy." He says, kicking a tray closer to me.

He smirks at me over his shoulder as he ushers Danielle up the stairs. I eye the food warily, but I don't hesitate for long. I'm famished, and I know the baby needs all of the nourishment she can get, especially if I'm not getting any sunlight anytime soon.

I mentally kick myself. I will get sunlight soon. I won't be stuck down her for months, acclimating to my new life like Danielle has. Christian will be here any minute. I have faith in him. For once, I wish he would stalk me to the fullest extent of his abilities. I wish he would show up unexpected.

**… … …**

"_This is nice!" I say shouting over the loud music and smiling at Kate and Mia. _

"_I know! Girls' night was a great idea!" Kate calls back. _

"_I wanna dance!" Mia demands, chugging back the remainder of her drink and grabbing one of our hands in each of hers._

_I sigh, I'm not drunk enough to dance. In fact, I'm not drunk at all. Ever since Christian and I decided we'd try to get pregnant, I've been taking every precaution possible, just in case it works._

"_So what did the control freak think about you coming out?" Kate asks, whispering in my ear as she and Mia shimmy provocatively against my body. _

"_He was… okay with it." I lie, and they both roll their eyes at me. _

_I hold up my finger to them, as my phone vibrates against my hip. I struggle to pull it out of the pocket of the super tight shorts that Mia dressed me in before I finally see that I have a text message from Christian. _

_I roll my eyes. Of course, he's texting me. I must be out past my curfew if Dad's texting me to come home. It's not like I'm alone. Sawyer is standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching every move I make, which actually makes me want to move less._

_***I BET YOU LOOK REALLY SEXY TONIGHT***_

_I smile at his text. Ah, flirty Christian! He must have gotten CJ to bed easily, though I'm not surprised. She loves the time they spend together before she goes to sleep. _

_***I DIDN'T TAKE YOU FOR THE GAMBLING TYPE, MR. GREY***_

_I text back, swaying to the music next to Kate and Mia while I wait for his reply._

_***I'M NOT. YOU DO LOOK REALLY SEXY TONIGHT.  
RED IS DEFINITELY YOUR COLOUR***_

_I freeze, glancing down at the tiny red hot pants, barely covering my essentials, and then look around the night club._

"_What's wrong?" Kate asks, obviously picking up my strange expression._

"_Christian is here." I reply, continuing my search over the sea of people._

"_Of course he is." She says, and I glance at her just in time to see her roll her eyes. "He can't let you out of his sight for a few hours?" She asks, though I'm assuming it's a rhetorical question, and if it's not, I'm still not going to reply. _

_A tap on my shoulder startles me, and I turn around to see Christian smirking at me. He looks good wearing a pair of worn out jeans and a white linen shirt, unbuttoned at the top. _

_I glare at him, putting my hands on my hips, and his expression falls. _

"_What are you doing here?" I ask angrily. _

"_Yea, Christian! It's girls' night!" Mia says, though she's wearing a grin on her hot pink lips. _

"_I came to see my girl." He says, winking at me and reaching for my hand. _

_Reluctantly, I let him pull me closer as he starts to dance, grinding his hips against mine. I move in time with him, letting him lead me, but I'm glaring at him the entire time. He knows I'm pissed. He's going to try to distract me by turning me on and being cute and flirty Christian. _

"_You look upset." He says against my neck as he spins me, pulling me against his body with my back to his chest and my arms crossed over my stomach. _

"_Let's just go." I say, no longer in the mood to dance. _

_I wave at Kate and Mia before letting Christian lead me through the throngs of people. _

_In the back of the Audi, I glare at him. I want him to know how upset I am with his behaviour. _

"_Why do you look like an angry little girl?" He asks, smirking at me. _

"_Christian, why did you show up tonight?" I ask, refusing to respond to his patronizing comment. _

"_I wanted to." He says simply, and leans toward me as if that's enough of an explanation. _

"_Christian." I warn, reluctantly moving away from his kiss. "You knew I was out with Kate and Mia. You sent Sawyer with us. You knew the club we were at, and you could easily see if I was anywhere else by tracking my blackberry. Why did you feel the need to take your stalking to the next level?" I ask. "Don't you trust me to be where I said I'd be?" _

"_Of course I trust you. It's the rest of the world I don't trust. What if you had been taken, and in the struggle, you dropped your phone? Then it would appear you were safe and sound at the night club, meanwhile you're being slowly tortured." He says, and I frown. _

"_Christian, I can understand that you have trust issues, but you need to realize how absurd this all sounds. What are the chances of someone grabbing me and dragging me off to be tortured somewhere?" I ask, rolling my eyes._

"_Don't do that."He says, and I think I'm about to be scolded for rolling my eyes. "Don't disregard my concerns for you as some kind of overreaction. My world is full of people wanting to take me down a peg, in my business life and in my personal life." He says, and I realize this is something he feels like he has to do. _

"_I don't mean to belittle your feelings, Christian, but it makes me feel like an errant teenager when you show up to check on me." I explain, and it's true; I would never want to demean him, even if he sometimes makes me feel about two-inches tall. _

"_I would die a thousand deaths if something happened to you, and even more so if it happened because I went lax and didn't use every resource I have to protect you." He says, and I am grateful that he's opening up and telling me this, though I wonder if it's just in order to get me to accept that this how it's going to be, no arguments, no room for compromise. _

"_Let's just go home." I say after a long moment. _

_I can't have this argument with him. There's no point in arguing with a brick wall. _

**… … …**

I take back all of it, everything I said about him needing to back off the stalking. I take it back. I will stand in front of him and tell him that he was right. I will admit that I was wrong, that he wasn't overreacting. People are out to get him, and they did use me to do it.

My megalomaniac stalker was right. With all of his control freakary, though, this still happened. I'd give anything to have him show up and drag me off to his cave like a Neanderthal on a testosterone rampage.

My thoughts slip to Sawyer and Taylor. Did they get helped in time? Did Christian get there quickly? Are CJ and Eli okay? Were they injured in the impact? I wasn't, but they're so much smaller than me.

At this moment, regardless of what I've said in the past, I'd give anything to wake up in the middle of the night to them climbing over my body to sleep between Christian and I.


	8. Are You My Father

- See end of chapter for A/N.

**Chapter 8 - Are You My Father?:**

I've spent the last four hours staring at surveillance photos taken by surrounding stores the day Ana was taken. I'm tracking her movements, but once the car gets onto the freeway, I lose her. I know her exact route. I've replayed the GPS back over and over on my computer screen, but I need the images. I need to see when Jack showed up and where he went afterwards.

Taylor and Sawyer are still unable to talk; They both suffered severe injuries, so I'm not able to get a description of the car or the license plate that Taylor was about to send to Welch before the accident.

I wonder, briefly, if I could somehow get into the police evidence garage to examine the car. There has to have been paint transfer, or some kind of clue. Taylor and Sawyer wouldn't let Ana be abducted without leaving something for me to find, something that would tell me what I'm looking for.

My phone, vibrating noisily against my desk, startles me. I'm not easily startled, and this makes me more frustrated than I was a moment ago. Looking at the screen, I recognize the number immediately and press the answer button.

"Agent Black, I trust you're calling about the welfare of my package?" I ask, maintaining a cool tone.

"Yes, Sir. Just confirming that your package is still in my possession. Have you located your missing artifact?" A garbled voice responds back.

"I have not. I know you understand how important these artifacts are to my company, and I trust you're keeping them away from prying eyes." I say, maintaining my CEO attitude.

"I assure you, your artifacts are safe, Mr. Grey. Now I have to go. Our minute is up." Elliott says through the voice changer I provided him with.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair and staring at the phone. I wish I could speak to the children. Tell them that I love them, though I know Kate and Elliott are making sure that they tell them I send my love. I wonder how Mia is holding up without a daily shopping spree. One minute, once a day, that's all I get. I can't risk anyone trying to trace the calls.

Despite the precautions I took by getting Elliott the disposable cell phone and having Welch remove any GPS technology from the phone and the car before giving them to my brother, I'm still concerned. I spend every moment wondering if something has happened to them, wondering if I've done the wrong thing, tucking them away.

My phone vibrates again, and I wonder if something has happened that Elliott needs to call me back so quickly about. Looking at my phone, an image of my mother shows up along with her name, and I sigh.

"Mom." I answer, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Christian Grey, did you order your goons to hold me captive in my home?" She demands, and I roll my eyes.

_Of course I did._

"Of course not, Mom. What's the problem?" I ask, going into smooth problem solving CEO mode.

"I need to go to the store and get something to feed my house guests, Christian." She says, and I know that tone anywhere. Mom is stressed and worried about what's happening, so she's throwing herself into being the most brilliant host she can be.

"I'll pick you up and take you shopping, Mom. I don't want you going out alone." I tell her, grabbing my keys and heading toward the elevator.

…

"I don't like being held hostage, Christian." Grace says as I help her into the passenger seat of the R8.

"I know, Mom." I say softly, knowing it will do me nothing but trouble to argue with her. "The idiots in the SPD aren't doing very much to protect my family, so it's my job to do that." I explain to her as we pull out of the driveway. "It's my job to protect you."

"No, Christian, it's not." She replies, though she sounds more resigned to the reality of our situation.

"If anything happened to you…" I start, feeling a lump form in my throat. I don't want to have this conversation, but in light of what's going on in our lives, I feel it's important for her to know. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Mom. I'd die if anyone took you from me."

I keep my eyes focused on the road ahead of me, refusing to meet her eyes.

"I love you, too, Darling." She says softly, touching my hand where it sits on the steering wheel.

…

* * *

"I could ask him not to kill you." Danielle says, and I lift my eyes to her. "I could tell him that I want to keep you alive. You could be like a big sister to the baby, or a nanny! You could live down here, and just whenever we need a hand, you'll be there. He won't pass up such a good offer."

"Kill me." I say softly, staring directly into her eyes.

"You're nuts." She says, and I wonder if she sees the irony in her statement.

"I won't be here long enough for it to matter. Christian is coming for me, and you and Jack won't ever lay a hand on my baby." I say, sounding as adamant as I can.

"Jack won't let you go. Never." She whispers, and I want so desperately to feel compassion for her, but I just don't have it in me anymore.

"Christian will come." I say, as light floods down the stairs. Jack's laughter fills my ears.

"Upstairs." He says, pointing to Danielle, who quickly scrambles to her feet and hurries up the stairs. "I'm tired of hearing this swan song. Grey isn't coming. Time to quiet that chatty mouth." He says, pulling out the ball gag.

_Fantastic._

"Please, Jack. I'll be quiet." I promise him, and frankly, I'm almost willing to keep my mouth shut in order to avoid him gagging me.

"I bet you wish I believed you." He mutters, forcing my head forward.

…

Danielle and Jack have been gone for ages, and I'm really not feeling well. I'm trying desperately to ignore the cramps in my lower back, but something tells me they aren't going away, and I'm growing concerned. I bite down on the ball, hoping it will help ease some of my tension.

I look down at my lap when I feel the all familiar gush of fluid. My jeans are soaked, and I know for a fact that I didn't just wet myself. This can't be happening. I'm not supposed to give birth in a dank basement, chained to a wall.

**… … …**

"_I'm just saying, just because she's a girl, doesn't mean she has be overloaded with pink. Little girls like purple and yellow and even blue." I explain to my mother as we fold the piles of baby clothes and blankets to put into the dresser._

"_Blue?!" She exclaims, her eyes wide as she stares at me. "What if little Carla comes out without a single hair on her head? You dress in her blue, and people will be saying, oh what a handsome little boy you've got there!" _

_I roll my eyes. _

"_We're not naming her little Carla." I say for the millionth time, though I know she's kidding._

"_Ana, knowing you, you'll just keep calling the poor girl Blip when she's born." My mother laughs, and I roll my eyes again. "How are you feeling?" She asks, and I shrug._

"_The doula said that cramps are too far apart for them to be contractions. I'm sure it's just those Braxton Hicks things." I assure her, rising from the bed to put away the tiny stack of onesies I've just folded. _

"_Well, as long as she's aware that you're having some activity." My mother says, and I nod. _

"_Uh oh." _

"_What?" She asks. "Is that drawer full? You can always put some in the change table downstairs. You can never have too many clothes for—"_

"_No, that's not it." I say, looking down at the puddle on the hardwood floor. My mother follows my gaze with her eyes, and I watch the realization hit her._

"_I'll call the midwife!" She says, scurrying to pick up my phone off my bed. _

…

"_Just takes some deep, soothing breaths, Anastasia." Nina, my doula instructs, and I do, though the sound of her voice and the stupid water rock fountain thing she brought are not at all relaxing. _

_It's been three hours since my water broke, and the contractions are getting closer together, but this pain is becoming unbearable. _

"_I think we should go to the hospital." I mutter through clenched teeth as Nina and my mother sit in front of me, doing the breathing exercises I should be doing._

"_I thought you wanted the baby to born at home, surrounded by people who love her and sounds that will be warm and familiar to her?" My mother asks, and I glare at her. _

"_I want. To go. To the hospital." I grunt out, glaring at my mother's face._

"_A lot of women go through this phase during the home birth process, Ana. You've made a birthing plan, and you've practiced this a dozen times. You don't want to go back on it. You're just scared." Nina says, and I wish I believed her. "Now, let's just surround ourselves with love and peaceful thoughts."_

_I make a mental note to never hire a midwife who also owns a spiritual healing shop ever again. _

"_Hospital!" I shout, causing my father to peek into the room through the doorway. I know he's not comfortable being in the same room as me while I'm half naked, bouncing on yoga ball in the living room. "I don't give a DAMN about love! SCREW LOVE! It's not even real! I want drugs and machines, and scary beeping things to tell me that everything is going fine!" I continue shouting, and I glance over at my father as he finally enters the room._

"_We'll take my car." He says, helping me up, but his eyes tell me he's asking, rather than telling, and I feel a little guilty for shouting at everyone. _

…

"_She's perfect." I murmur, holding my tiny bundle in my arms. _

"_How are we doing in here, Miss Steele?" The nurse asks, coming in with a small cart. "I need to check your vitals." She says, coming around to the side of the bed. _

_I smile, letting her wrap my arm in a blood pressure cuff as I stare at my little girl. _

"_Have you picked a name for her yet? I can get those papers for you whenever you're ready." She informs me, and I nod. It took sending away my parents and Nina, plus a few friends from work who showed up, but I finally had enough peace and quiet to contemplate my decision. _

"_Yes." I whisper. "Her name is Christian." _

"_That's a lovely name. How'd you finally choose?" She asks, grinning down at the unnaturally wide grey eyes staring at me. _

"_I thought about it for a while, throughout my pregnancy, and I wasn't really sure, but… those eyes, those are the eyes of a Christian." I murmur. _

"_Is that a religious thing?" She asks casually, packing up her machine._

"_No." I reply simply, not wanting to get into it. _

"_Well, you relax. I'll be in with those papers for you to fill out in a little while. Then we can stop calling her Baby Girl Steele." She laughs._

"_Grey." I say softly as the nurse leaves. "You're name is Christian Grey."I continue, staring into the most mesmerizing grey eyes I've ever seen in my entire life. _

**… … …**

I mentally kick myself for claiming I could wear the same jeans throughout the entire pregnancy. Yoga pants, yoga pants would have been more comfortable. Even a dress would have been a better choice. No, I had to be stubborn. I had to wear jeans.

I clamp my teeth down tighter on the ball as a contraction washes over me.

**… … …**

"_I thought we could go shopping today." Christian says, raising a brow at me as I hold the bed post with one hand and squat while yanking my jeans up with my free hand. _

"_Why? Gail just went yesterday." I say through gritted teeth as I squat again._

"_I mean for clothes." He says, and I look up, meeting his wide, squirrely eyes. _

"_For me?" I ask, crossing my arms when he nods. "My clothes fit fine, Christian." I demand._

"_Ana, you're pregnant; it's not a big deal that you gained some weight. That's supposed to happen." He says in a soft tone. _

"_When I had CJ, I wore all of my own clothes, aside from a few shirts and bras that were too small. I only gained weight in my belly." I say, lying on the bed so that I can button my jeans. _

_I stand up, adjusting to the tightness of them and smile._

"_See! They fit fine!" I show him, turning around so he can examine them. _

"_They look very uncomfortable." He says, challenging me._

"_I feel GREAT!" I demand adamantly. "Now if you'll please get me my black converse shoes." I ask, sitting carefully on the bed._

"_Of course." He says, and I'm glad he's such a gentleman and doesn't ask why I don't get them myself._

_I don't think it would help my case any to tell him that I can't bend over because my jeans are too tight. _

"_Let me help you." He says, kneeling in front of me to help me put on my shoes. "I hope you don't have to use the rest room today. It would be shame to have to stuff that voluptuous ass back into these jeans." _

_I frown, wishing I'd peed before putting these on. Why does he always have to be right?_

**… … …**

I feel a contraction radiate through my body, breathing deeply through my nose as I begin counting in my head.

One m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.  
Two m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.  
Three m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.

I need to know how much time is between contractions. After every 60 second cycle, I put one finger of my clenched fist out, keeping track of each minute. As the next contraction begins, I stop counting at nine minutes, twenty three seconds.

I have time. Christian has time. He'll be here.

This baby won't be born here. She will be born surrounded by the people that love her, in a place full of familiar sounds and objects. She will not be born with fear as her first emotion. She will only know love and warmth.

**… … …**

"_We need one big push, Ana. Can you give me that?" The doctor asks from his place at the foot of the bed between my legs. _

"_Daddy?!" I cry, looking around the room in search of Ray. I locate him in the corner of the room and meet his eyes, begging him to hold my hand. _

"_Come on, Annie." He says, taking the hand my mother isn't already holding into both of his large hands. "One more big one, then we'll have our girl."_

_I groan loudly, pushing down and exhaling a long breath. There's a flurry of excitement and relief and movement, followed by the gravelly cries of my new daughter. _

"_Is daddy coming in to cut the cord?" The doctor asks, holding my baby over my stomach. _

"_Nope! I have called dibs!" My mother says, jumping in before I have a chance to explain that 'daddy' isn't here. _

"_You did good." Ray says, kissing my sweaty temple as my mother chases the doctors and nurses around the room, flashing the camera at them all in an attempt to document the entire scene. _

**… … …**

My contractions have been approximately nine minutes apart for approximately thirty six minutes, four cycles of nine. This is good. The labour is progressing slowly. Christian can make it. This Blip will know her daddy the moment she's born. Christian will be there to cut the cord, hell, he can catch the baby like a football if he really wants. He will not miss this. I won't let him miss this again.

**… … …**

"_Gigi!" CJ squeals, jabbing her finger against the photo in her baby book. _

"_Yea, that's Gigi!" I reply excitedly. At two years old, I swear she's the smartest kid in the world. _

"_Mommy!" She squeals, pointing to a photo of her and I. _

"_Yes, that's mommy." I tell her. _

"_Bay-beee" She says, pointing to herself as a tiny infant in my arms. _

"_That's you!" I tell her, watching her grin at me as she turns the page. She looks up at me, her grey eyes wide with question. "That's your daddy." I murmur softly, watching her gaze move from the photo to my face and back again._

"_My daddy?" She asks, looking skeptically at me. _

"_Yup." I reply as her questioning eyes scrutinize me. "He lives in a magical kingdom called Seattle, in the tallest tower of a castle called Escala, with his loyal subjects Gail and Taylor." I tell her, letting her see her father as a fairytale instead of someone who wants nothing to do with her._

"_Daddy a prince?" She asks, and I smile._

"_Yes, he has all the riches in the world, like a prince." I tell her, using a whimsical voice. _

"_I go pee." She says, jumping off of the bed, her attention no longer on the book, but rather her newest goal of potty training. _

"_Okay! Let's run fast!" I say, chasing her to the bathroom, the regrets of not forcing Christian to witness this amazing little girl weighing on the back of my mind. _

_It's his loss._

**… … …**

It was his loss, but it was our loss too. I know he has as many, if not more, regrets as I have about him missing those first years of CJ's life. This was supposed to be our new beginning. No more secrets. No more missing things. He attends every lesson, every teacher meeting, every school fundraiser. He's there for our children, often catching the moments on film and watching and rewatching them over and over. He's the most amazing father in the world. He needs this. I need him to have this moment.

He deserves to see every single moment of this baby's life.

**… … …**

"_Did you charge the battery?" Christian asks, walking into the room as I put the video camera into my purse._

"_Of course I did." I assure him, turning to straighten his black bowtie. "You look very dashing, Mr. Grey, but is your daughter's piano recital reason to pull out a tux?" _

"_It's absolutely the best reason in the world to wear a tux, Anastasia." He answers, his tone completely serious. _

"_It's not the symphony, Christian." I tell him, smiling up at him. _

"_You're right. It's better." He says, reaching into his pants pocket and retrieving a small digital camera. "I'll man the video camera, you can take this. I don't want any wobbling videos because your arm gets tired." _

_I raise an eyebrow at him, knowing he is absolutely serious in this comment. _

"_Did you give her the gift yet?" I ask, changing the subject. _

"_No, I wanted to wait until she was dressed." He says before glancing at his watch. "Will you go and see what's taking her so long? I thought you said she just had to put on her dress."_

_I smile at him as I walk past and head toward CJ's bedroom. He's nervous, but I find it so endearing that he's taking control of the important events in our children's lives. _

_When I return to the great room with CJ and Eli, Christian is standing by the breakfast bar, pouring grape juice into wine glasses. _

"_Shall we have a toast before we leave?" He asks, handing us each a glass. _

_I eye Eli warily, clasping the glass in both of his hands and knowing it won't end well. _

"_Oh!" Christian says, grabbing a straw from the back of the counter and dropping it into Eli's glass and picking up the video camera. "To CJ, on this most monumental evening of your life. May you be successful in music among everything else you set your mind to, and may you not break your neck wearing those god awful shoes made for a girl three times your age." He says, and I bite my lip to stifle a giggle as we all clink glasses and drink to CJ's success. _

"_Okay, we'd better head out. We're going to be late." I say, taking Eli's glass and placing it on the counter before he spills it all over his tux. _

"_Just one more thing." Christian says, handing me the camera as he reached into his pocket and pulls out a small black box. "This is for you, for good luck and congratulations on reaching this milestone." He says, crouching on one knee in front of our daughter. _

_She watches, her eyes wide and curious with excitement as Christian removes the lid, revealing a delicate gold chain with a tiny music note charm. _

"_Let me help you." He says softly, taking the chain out of the box and clasping it at the back of CJ's neck. "Perfect." He says before she throws her arms around his neck._

_I watch, in the tiny screen, as Christian smiles one of the most genuine smiles that have ever graced his face._

This is why he documents everything, takes photos and videos of everything; He wants to remember these perfect moments because that's what they are, they're perfection.

**… … …**

…

**A/N:** I thought I'd put this one down at the bottom of the chapter. Please keep in mind that I haven't been labour ever in my life. My sister had a baby, and I was in the room for that birth, but I tried to read up on contractions and how to time it because my sister was in labour for 18 hours before they induced her, and I'm not sure that that's the 'normal' case.

Again, any questions can be directed to my inbox. Those of you who post questions as guest users, I'd love to answer your questions as well, but I can't reply to your reviews, so feel free to log in and inbox me.

I'm still working on the next chapter, as it is of great importance that I have it PERFECT before I post it.


	9. Saving Ana

A/N: I hope you're all ready for some Christian POV… and some other stuff that you've been asking for, but it's really no big, you know just the generic filler part. *sigh* That's just how I roll. ;) =P

Ooooh, that's right… I did include something important in this chapter. Oh wells! Enjoy!

**** This chapter is dedicated to marycontrary82.  
Happy Birthday, & thank for your lovely comments! ****

****Please remember that when you see the grey divider, like the one below, the POV is changing.

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Saving Ana:**

"Grey."I snap, pressing the 'answer' button on my blackberry.

"Mr. Grey." Welch replies.

"Welch, what do you have for me." I answer, glancing to my mother in the passenger seat. "I'm in the car, and I'm not alone." I continue, receiving a raised brow from my mother.

_Yes, Mommy Dearest, your baby boy has very big boy secrets._

"I got an address." Welch says, and I immediately know what he's talking about.

"Where is it?" I ask, trying to keep a cool exterior.

"Darrington, in Snohomish County. You're about an hour and a half out. I'm sending the exact coordinates to your GPS." He replies, before I hang up.

I wanted to ask him how we missed it, or who's name it was under, but I don't have time. My GPS screen lights up with a map showing my ETA and the most direct route to the cabin. I've got him.

"Buckled?" I ask, glancing at my mother's confused face.

"Of course." She replies indignantly, as if she'd get into a car and NOT put a seatbelt on after everything she's seen in the emergency room.

"Good." I say, pressing my foot down on the gas and watching as everything around my car begins to turn into nothing but blur.

"Christian!" She shouts, and I remove a hand from the wheel to give hers a squeeze.

"Hold on, Mom. We have to make a little detour." I say, flashing her a reassuring grin, but she really doesn't look reassured as she grips her seatbelt with both hands and stares straight ahead.

I swerve, cutting off two lanes of traffic as I get onto the I-5. I'm thankful that Welch gave me a route that avoided city street traffic and stop lights. The last thing I need it to be held up by red lights.

Thirty minutes into the drive, my blackberry rings again.

"Mr. Grey." Welch says, not waiting for me to speak. "You're approximately halfway there. You're making great time, Sir."

"What do you need, Welch?" I snap, focusing on the off ramp at exit 208.

"I'm going to give you another fifteen minute head start before dispatching the locals." He says, and I'm grateful for the incoming backup. "I'm also approximately 20 minutes behind you, Sir, should you need personal assistance."

"Good. I'll see you there, Welch." I say before hanging up.

With Taylor and Sawyer still in the hospital and the rest of my team with the children, I'm going into this situation completely blind.

"I want you to stay in the car when we get there. Wait outside for Welch and the locals to arrive. Let them know I entered the residence." I say to my mother, keeping my eyes on the road speeding beneath my car.

"Christian—" She starts, but I cut her off.

"Stay outside, Grace. That is not a request." I snap, and I feel her eyes glaring at me, though I refuse to meet her gaze. "Please, I don't know what we're walking into. I would have preferred to drop you off at home first, but time is of the essence." I say, my voice much less harsh and demanding. "I need you outside in case I run into trouble."

Reasoning with her, playing on her motherly instincts to protect me, this is the approach I should have used from the get go.

"Fine, but as soon as you know anything…" She starts.

"I'll let you know." I promise her, meeting her eyes for the briefest of seconds, so she knows I'm serious.

…

* * *

I grunt, tears running down my face. The baby is coming, and I'm alone, unable to scream for help, chained to the wall in the basement.

I hear a loud noise, splintering wood, maybe, followed by Danielle releasing a shrill scream.

"Where's my wife?!"

CHRISTIAN!

I grunt loudly, trying desperately to make as much noise as I possibly can. He won't leave without me. He won't leave until he's torn this entire cabin down to the very last floor board looking for me.

I bite down hard on the ball as another contraction ripples through my body.

I can hear Danielle screaming and crying, but other than that, the only sounds I hear are a lot of banging and heavy creaks against the floor boards above my head. They must be fighting. Jack is no match for Christian in terms of physical strength.

I try desperately to breathe deeply, to relax myself and the baby.

Christian's here. Daddy's here to save us Blip.

I scream around the ball, though barely any sound comes out, when I hear the distinct sound of a gun firing. Danielle is screaming even more now, she sounds devastated.

Christian doesn't carry a gun.

I close my eyes as renewed hot tears stream down my face. Jack's already killed Sawyer and Taylor, he has personal hatred for Christian. There's no doubt in my mind that he's just shot my husband.

My entire body shakes as another contraction takes me over, and I sob around my gag, my arms stretched out on either side of my body.

My husband is dead on the floor directly above me.

I'm heartbroken.

No, I'm pissed off. I want to kill Jack with my bare hands. I struggle against the cuffs on my wrists, yanking against them violently despite the pain shooting through me as my skin pinches and tears against the rough metal. I see blood begin to ooze onto my silver restraints, but I don't care; I keep yanking, even as another contraction tightens through my back and abdomen.

Light suddenly floods the stairwell, Danielle's screams becoming louder as someone comes down the stairs. The slow, heavy thumps have me terrified. Jack is coming to gloat, to show me my husband's blood on his hands.

I close my eyes, resigning myself to whatever my fate may be. My husband is dead. My friends are dead. I'm going to die as soon as this baby is born, and if someone doesn't help me deliver him, he'll die too. Maybe we're both better off this way. My thoughts are flooded with images of CJ and Eli, running happily in a beautiful meadow with smiles on their faces.

My babies.

"Ana?"

I open my eyes, in shock of the strained voice calling my name.

I grunt around the ball gag, fighting against the restraints as his beautiful face steps toward me from the shadows.

"I'm here, baby." He says, crouching down in front of me, his eyes trained on mine as he carefully unbuckles the gag from behind my head.

"Christian." I sob into his chest.

"Hold still." He says softly, looking around the room. "Where are the keys?" He asks, leaning back to look into my eyes.

"I don't—" I begin, but I'm cut off by another contraction.

They're so close together. I need to push, but I know I shouldn't, not yet.

"The baby." I force out through clenched teeth. "He's coming now."

"Now?" He asks, sounding panicked. "This is gonna hurt." He whispers, gripping the chain attached to the cuff holding my right wrist in place.

I let out a yelp as he yanks the chain, ripping it, along with the screw holding it in place, out of the board, splintering the cheap wood's entire corner off.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, repeating the action on the left cuff.

As soon as my hands are free, I wrap them around his neck, holding him as close to me as possible.

"AHHH!" I scream as my body is rendered paralyzed by yet another contraction.

I glance up, hearing the front door again.

"The police have arrived." Christian informs me, reading my thoughts as he's always done.

"MOM!" He shouts, and I feel confused.

Am I delirious? Hearing things? I must be. Why would Grace be here, in Jack's cabin?

Oh god; I'm dead.

"We were in the car when Welch called." Christian explains quietly.

"Is she…?" I hear Grace's panicked voice.

"The baby is coming now." Christian says, moving his hands to the waistband of my jeans.

"Oh!" Grace says, hurrying over to us.

"No!" I shout. "Not here! He can't be born in this place! Anywhere but here." I whisper, begging him with my eyes to just get me out of here.

"I'll drive. You deliver." He says, lifting me, seemingly without any effort at all, into his arms.

As we get to the top of the stairs, I see Danielle, being checked over by paramedics and a white sheet, covering, what I assume is, Jack's body.

I close my eyes as Christian follows Grace, carrying me out the front door. I grip his bicep as another contraction cramps through me, and he kisses my head, his face filled with fear and concern.

"We're going to need to get a statement from you Mrs. Grey, and uh, Mrs. Grey…" The Sherriff says. "Detective Clark will want to know what happened with Hyde." He continues.

"My wife is in labour, and my mother, _Doctor_ Trevelyan is accompanying me." Christian says forcefully before turning to a man dressed in all black next to a black SUV. "Take it home when you're through here." He says, tossing his keys at the man.

I've never met him before, and I wonder briefly who he is, but I'm in too much pain.

"I shot him." Grace says, and all heads whip to her, standing there in her designer dress and heels, her hair styled perfectly as if she were off to a luncheon with her high-powered attorney husband.

"No she didn't." Christian snaps, glaring at her. "I shot him."

"Christian!" Grace scolds, but Christian holds up his hand.

"We fought, he pulled a gun, I knocked it out of his hand. He went toward the fireplace and grabbed the poker. When he came at me with it, I picked up the gun and shot him." Christian says quickly. "Mom, stop trying to protect me. I'm not a troubled little boy anymore!"

Grace seems taken aback by Christian yelling at her, but I haven't the time to process the situation any further as another contraction reaps through my body, and I loud out a loud groan, begging these people to stop chatting and get this baby out of me.

"Johnson! Take them to the hospital!" The Sheriff says, pointing to a young paramedic. "You good to handle everything in the back of the rig?" He asks, looking at Grace.

She nods, and Christian quickly helps me into the back of the ambulance with Grace climbing in behind us and Johnson hopping into the driver's seat.

"What about…" I start, but Grace hushes me.

"There are other paramedics there, and she wasn't physically injured. You need to get to the hospital now." She says, keeping her voice calm as Christian sits next to me, his face etched with some emotion I can't even describe. "I need to cut these off." She continues, pointing at my jeans.

I nod, wondering how Danielle could possibly NOT be physically injured as Grace grabs a pair of scissors, cutting my soaked and bloody jeans from my body before draping a blanket over my lower half.

"Fetal monitor's on the left hand side!" Johnson calls as he speeds away from the cabin. "ETA to Cascade Valley Hospital is 40 minutes."

"I'm going to hook this up and then take a peek, all right?" She says, and I nod, as if I have a choice about my mother-in-law getting an up close and personal, 3-D view of my birth canal.

I groan as we hit a bump in the road, and Christian grips my hand.

"Oh my!" Grace says as she lifts the sheet over my knees. "Looks like we're going to deliver this little guy right now."

"What? In here?" Christian asks, his face going sheet white. "Can't she close her legs until we get to the hospital?"

"No, Darling. I'm going to need your help. Put on a pair of gloves." She says, receiving identical looks from Christian and I. "Let's go, Daddy!" Grace snaps, handing him a pair of clean gloves.

"It's too soon." Christian mumbles, as he hesitantly looks under the sheet, his face paling even further, as if that was possible.

"The baby doesn't think so. I need you to hold Ana's leg up." She instructs him, and he silently does as he's told.

I want to make a comment on how lovely it is to see him being so obedient, but I don't have it in me to funny.

"Ana, when you feel the next contraction, we're going to push. Do you understand?" Grace asks, and I nod taking deep breaths as the sounds of the sirens and the fetal monitor pollute my thoughts.

It comes on with a vengeance, and Grace's voice is soothing as she tells me to push, Christian's free hand finds mine. We mutually squeeze, both seeking the same solace from one another.

"I see lovely head of hair!" Grace says, as the contraction dissipates.

It's only a brief moment before she's helping with the shoulders and then the legs, and my ears are suddenly filled with the most beautiful sound of my screaming baby.

Christian's lips find my hand as he releases my leg, and I relax back into the thin pillow on the stretcher beneath me.

"I love you." He whispers against my skin as Grace holds a pair of scissors toward Christian.

"I believe this is your job." She says, and he eyes them warily before finally taking them and following his mother's instructions to cut the cord.

"Wait." I say, causing them both to freeze. "You need to take a picture."

They both eye me with questioning gazes, but Christian reaches into his pocket and hands pulls out his phone. I sit up slightly, mustering every ounce of strength in me to give him this moment and snap a somewhat blurry photo of him cutting the cord.

This is it. This is the moment he's needed.

I sigh, satisfied that everything is under control as Grace cleans and swaddles the baby. The last three days have been hell, but seeing Christian's face alight with wonder and curiosity as he watches Grace's movements.

"How's it going back there?" Johnson calls from the front seat. "We're still about twenty minutes out."

"Mom and baby are doing fantastic!" Grace calls back, grinning as she hands me the baby.

"Perfect. Everything is perfect" Christian whispers, his voice and eyes so full of emotions that I'm not sure I've ever seen in his expression before.

"You were born surrounded by people who love you." I whisper, stroking the baby's cheek with my index finger. "I told you that your daddy would come."

…

"Hold her." I insist, but Christian just stares at me with wide eyes, his fingers steepled on his lips. He shakes his head slowly, eyeing the baby and warily. "You won't break her."

"I'm not sure." He says as he begins pacing the room. "She's incredibly small."

"And you're incredibly gentle." I say softly. "Hold your daughter."

"Soon. She looks hungry. Try to feed her again." He says quietly as he sits down in the chair next to my hospital bed.

"She just ate, Christian." I tell him, even though he's fully aware because he stood at the foot of the bed, watching, blinking at an abnormally decreased rate, as Grace helped me get the baby to latch.

"How are we doing in here?" Grace asks softly, poking her head in the door.

"Just fine." Christian says. "Thanks, Mom."

"Christian won't hold the baby." I say, knowing I need to bring in reinforcements.

"Christian?" She asks, looking his stunned eyes.

When he says nothing, Grace huffs and walks over to the bed, carefully removing the baby from my arms and staring at Christian.

"Like this." She says, showing him how to cradle the baby before placing her into my husband's stunned arms.

"She's so tiny." He whispers, staring down at the sleeping face our baby.

"She'll get bigger." Grace assures him, knowing how he feels about underweight children.

"She should eat again." He says, looking to his mother for confirmation.

"She'll let you know when she's hungry, Darling." Grace says, smiling softly at her son.

…

* * *

"She's opening her eyes." I tell Ana excitedly, turning so that my wife can see as well. "Look at them! They're blue!"

"I think all babies have blue eyes at first." I tell him, though I know CJ was an exception.

"She looks just like you." He says, stroking the soft brown hair covering her head.

A knock on the door startles us as we stare, smiling at each other.

"Sir?"

"Welch." I say, glancing from Ana to Welch and back again, calculating my next move. "Let me just give Ana the baby, and we can go talk."

"No, please stay. It's lovely to finally put a face to the voice, Mr. Welch." Ana says, and Welch nods politely at my wife.

"Mrs. Grey. Glad to see you and the baby are doing well." He says, his tone all business.

"You need to rest, Anastasia." I insist, placing the baby in the hospital issue bassinette next to the bed.

"Christian, don't cut me out." She says, and I can see the tears welling up in her eyes, her voice cracking as she speaks.

I stare at her. How do I deny her anything when she looks at me like that, when she's been through what she's experienced over the last three days?

"No. Welch, outside." I say, walking toward the door. I can't hurt her by letting her hear the gritty details. I'll give her the watered down version, to appease her need to be involved.

"This happened to me! I want to know why!" She shouts, and I stare at her in surprise. She looks so angry, so vengeful.

"I will discuss it with you privately, once you've rested." I tell her. "You have my word."

"I want to know everything." She says, sniffling.

"I will tell you later, Anastasia." I tell her, handing her a tissue from the box next to her bed.

"Good." She says, wiping her moist cheeks.

"Let me talk to Welch before Clark and his merry band of morons show up." I tell her, receiving a small smile before I usher Welch out of the room.

…


	10. Hydeing

A/N: Ooookay! So here is the next chapter. It's a little longer than usual, but I'm sure you won't mind! =P

I had a ton of trouble deciding what I wanted to name the new baby. In all honesty, I really wasn't a fan of the names from the original trilogy, and I actually had a lengthy debate about this with my mother, two aunts, and several cousins this evening. The consensus was that nobody really liked them. They just seemed like random names from the tops of their heads. Maybe I'd have felt differently if we saw WHY they chose those names, but we didn't, and I don't. Let me know how you feel about the new baby's name. Hate it? Love it?

So, who's ready for an ENTIRE chapter of Christian's POV?!

**Chapter 10 – Hyde-ing:**

I lead Welch into a small waiting room next door to Ana's room and stare at the envelope in his hand, silently demanding that he start speaking.

"Sir, I realize that the delay in your wife's rescue was, in part, my fault. I understand if this leads to my termination from your security team, however, before we discuss that, I'd like to show you why we missed this in the first place. Perhaps, god forbid anything like this happens again, we will know to check for something like this." He says, and I raise a brow at him.

He's right. He is up the creek right now in my eyes, but however long it took, he still helped find my wife, and I want to know how we missed this information.

"Hyde's parents were drug dealers, so at age five he was removed from the home and put into the system. He bounced around, got booted out of several foster homes. He was violent and angry, often times caught hitting the other children in the home. Finally, by ten, he found one that would put up with him. The home really didn't have any children left. They were an older couple, whose foster children had all aged out of the system. They raised a few life-timers, though they never adopted any of them. Anyways, Jane and Derek Hyde officially adopted Jack when he was twelve." Welch says, showing me the adoption papers from his envelope.

"Why didn't we see any of this?" I ask, and he nods.

"Hyde's adoption was private, no contact with the birth parents, so it was sealed. All we knew was that he'd been adopted. We didn't know when, or his history in the system." He says. "The cabin belonged to one of the families that he lived with prior to being adopted by the Hydes. Apparently they were quite wealthy and willed one item to each child they took in. The couple was in a car accident last year, which is when Hyde came into possession of the cabin; however, he never changed the name on the deed. According to my source in PD, Clark's team found out about the cabin through the lawyer who handled the will. His name came up in an address book found in Hyde's abandoned apartment, but it wasn't something I was privy to because PD got there first and put the book in the evidence lockup."

I stare, listening to this, and shaking my head in disbelief.

"I want to know every family Hyde has ever lived with or been associated with. I want to know every last goddamn detail of this asshole's life, Welch." I tell him, my tone cold and angry.

"I've got a list of his foster homes, but I'm still having trouble tracking down the birth parents. The mother was a minor, apparently just shy of her eighteenth birthday when Hyde was removed from the home. Her name is blacked out on all of the documents to protect her identity." He explains.

"I want that name." I say, snatching the list of families from his hand and skimming through it. "Have you done backgrounds on all of these people yet?" I ask.

"Working on it, Sir. Should have them by the end of the week." He assures me, and I nod.

"Good. Have you looked into the status of Danielle Alexander yet? How did she meet Hyde? How long was she held captive?" I ask.

"I haven't had a chance to get in and question her. She's been pretty heavily guarded by Clark and his team. I'm going to stick around and keep watch for a clear in." He explains.

"Good. What was the scene like once we left?" I ask him.

"Sheriff tried to question the girl, but she wasn't talking. I'm still trying to get my hands on the report and her medical chart. Security is still pretty tight around the case. Clark showed, and the sheriff told him your story about how Hyde got shot." He explains.

"And?" I ask.

"Didn't question it much. He just told me to give you his card and tell you he'd be stopping by to get your statement." Welch continues. "I also forwarded a written copy of your statement to your father, per your request."

"Good, good. Handle those other things. I need to get back to my wife. I trust you to get me all of the information, Welch. Now that we're aware of these sealed records, I want you making sure anyone we come in contact with is screened for anything like this. I want to know everything. I want to know what they fed their beloved cat, Mr. Sprinkles, when they were six years old. I want it all, Welch." I tell him, glaring at him in a way that assures him another slip up like this will cost him much more than just his job.

"Sir." He says with a firm nod before I walk past him and out of the waiting room.

…

"Detective, I've already told you everything I know."

Ana's voice carries as I open the door to her room.

"What the hell is going on in here?" I ask, putting myself between Clark and my wife.

"I'm just trying to get your wife's statement on the events during and leading up to her abduction. Miss Alexander is unable to help us. She's gone into what these med-school types are calling a catatonic state." He says, and I look back at Ana's strained, tear stained face.

"Your report can wait. Hyde is dead, so there's no rush on catching him, and my wife has been through enough today." I tell him, glaring into his eyes.

"Yes, Jack Hyde is dead, and I've got a few questions about how that happened as well." He says, meeting my glare.

"Any questions you have, from now on, can be addressed to our attorney." I say, smirking at him. "I believe you're already acquainted. Now, get the hell out because you will not speak to my wife again without legal counsel present."

"Mr. Grey, your wife is not a suspect; she's a victim. She doesn't need her attorney present. You on the other hand, you admitted to shooting Jack Hyde, and I'm going to need to speak to you about that." He says. "You have until business end tomorrow to come down to the station, or there will be a warrant out for you."

"I look forward to our chat, Detective." I say, raising a challenging brow at him.

If this asshole thinks he can intimidate me, he's in for a rude awakening. Clark nods at Ana before exiting the room, leaving us alone, and I stand, staring at the closed door for a long moment, catching my breath.

"Did you really shoot Jack?"

Her soft voice asks, and I think I hear a combination of relief and fear in her voice.

"Yes." I whisper back, unable to turn around and meet her gaze.

My throat feels dry, and a wash of guilt envelopes my entire being. Aside from keeping minor bits of information from her and bending the truth only slightly to sway her to my way of thinking, I've never lied to my wife.

Until now.

"What did Welch say?" She asks, and I can hear the hesitance in her voice.

Does she know that I lied to her just now? Does she know that I was moments away from falling unconscious because Hyde had the cast iron fire poke pressed to my throat from behind? He had me at an advantage. He'd attacked from behind.

When I entered the cabin, kicking the door in, Danielle was sitting in a chair nearby, and I went to her aid. She didn't tell me that Jack was behind me, and the blow to the back of my head caught me off guard, disoriented me for several moments.

He pulled his gun during our struggle, and I was able to knock it out of his hands, but he grabbed another weapon and swung at me, hitting me in the head again.

In that moment, I felt myself beginning to black out, and then the shot rang out. Jack fell, dragging me down with him, but he didn't move after that. I moved away from him and let my eyes slowly drag across the room until I met her terrified gaze. Standing at the edge of the living room, the gun still smoking in her hand, stood my mother.

She saved my life—again.

I wasn't thinking when I rushed over to her and grabbed the gun from her hand. I glanced at Danielle, but she just screamed as if she was completely horrified. Perhaps she was. It's not a farfetched notion after seeing what she's seen.

I removed the pocket square from my breast and wiped the gun down quickly before gripping it in my own hand as if I were about to fire it. I quickly moved toward the kitchen, running the square under the water and wringing it out before hurrying back to my mother and grabbing her wrist, more roughly than I intended. I cleaned her hands, ensuring that there would be no gunshot residue left on her skin should anyone question my story.

In my haste, I tripped over a rug on the floor at the edge of the kitchen, revealing the latch door to the cellar, and I knew. I just knew that Anastasia was down there.

A quick glance to my mother's still shocked face left me torn, but she blinked, finally, and nodded at me, her eyes no longer glassy and cold, he face no longer frozen with shock.

"Christian?" Ana's voice, prompting a response from me, disturbs my already quite disturbed thoughts, and I turn, plastering a grin on my face.

I open my mouth to tell her that I'd explain later, but fortunately, my new daughter is a substantially better excuse. Her cries fill the room, and I shrug, walking over to the bassinet to check on her.

"Is she hungry?" I ask, gingerly removing the swaddled bundle from her cradle and handing her to Ana.

"Hmm, nope, but how would you like to learn how to change a diaper, Daddy?" She asks, smirking at me.

"I think I have enough experience, thanks to Eli. I'm sure you've got it covered." I say, grinning at her as I walk across the room to fetch the diaper bag.

I watch as Ana easily maneuvers the diaper change like it's nothing, lifting the baby, adjusting the sticky things, even wrapping the soiled diaper into a hand sized stink bomb.

I'm utterly amazed by her, and I open my mouth to tell her just that, but we're interrupted again, this time by a knock on the door.

"Are you up for some visitors?" My mother asks from the door, smiling softly at us before opening the door completely and ushering Ana's parents in.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this." Ana teases, as her eyes fall on her parents' worried expressions.

"So, what's this beautiful girl's name?" Ray asks, changing the subject and stepping up to the side of the bed to take a better look at my brand new daughter.

Ana smiles and looks at me. I know exactly what she's thinking.

"No." I say sternly, pointing my finger at her.

"Christian, it's such a pretty—"

"I said no. You are not naming anymore of my children after my relatives, least of all THAT one." I say, trying to control my anger in the presence of her parents and my mother.

"I really think she could be an Ella." She says, pouting at me.

"No." I mouth at her, narrowing my eyes in silent demand that she drops the subject all together.

"Oh, Ella is a beautiful name!" Carla gushes, and I glare even harder at Anastasia.

"It was just a thought. We're not going to go with that." She says quickly, smiling down at the baby.

"Well, the poor thing needs a name." Carla gushes. "You know, it took forever for Ana to name CJ. I thought for sure, Ana would be calling her Blip until she was old enough to change her own name."

"I knew exactly what I wanted to name her." Ana mutters under her breath, and I grin.

…

The visit was brief. Ana's still exhausted, and she needed to have her wrists re-bandaged before she fed the baby again, so I sent everyone on their way.

"Ana, do you—I need to ask you something." I say, unsure if it's the right time to ask this question.

I don't know the protocol or what the social etiquette is for when one has just rescued one's wife from such a terrible place.

"Okay?" She asks, her brow furrowing with confusion.

"Do you want me to arrange for Flynn to speak with you?" I ask, my words oozing slowly out of my mouth as I wonder how appropriate the question is. I don't want to wound her more than she already has been.

Her expression changes drastically, and she quickly swipes a tear away from her cheek. I've made it worse. I should have kept my mouth shut, let her decide when she wanted to say something. Who the hell am I to suggest she needs therapy?

"You—you don't want me to talk to you about it?" She asks through a strained voice.

"I didn't mean it like that." I tell her, quickly moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "If you want to tell me, I'll listen. I just thought, maybe, you'd feel better having a professional to discuss it with, someone who can understand on a clinical level what you might be feeling."

"Christian, you know me better than anyone else in the world. I don't think any number of professionals could help me work through what I'm feeling better than you can." She says, sniffling and staring into my eyes with her tear-filled baby blues.

"Okay." I whisper, leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead.

…

"Is she asleep?" I ask, walking into the room with two paper cups of coffee, one decaf.

"Just." Ana murmurs, placing our daughter into the bassinet.

"Are you up for a couple of visitors?" I ask, and she eyes me suspiciously as she nods slowly.

"Come on in." I call, and I watch her face as the door opens and two nurses pushes Sawyer into the room in a wheel chair.

I'd already told her that both Sawyer and Taylor were improving, but she's still been concerned about their well-being. I'm not at all surprised. She's the most caring person I've ever met. Her face lights up as soon as she sees Sawyer.

"Mrs. Grey, glad to see you're all right." Sawyer says, as the nurse parks him next to the bed.

"Me? I'm so glad to see that you're all right!" Ana says, reaching for Sawyer's hand and giving it a firm squeeze. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you." He replies, politely releasing my wife's hand. "Looks like you've got yourselves a healthy baby girl." He comments, knowing I'm not comfortable with the affection he shows my wife.

"We certainly do." I agree, smiling down at the baby. "You've got your work cut out for you, once you're well enough to be back on the job, that is." I point out, hoping he knows that I still want him to care for the children and Ana.

"Yes, sir. A job I'll take very seriously." He replies, nodding softly.

He has Ana to thank for that. Frankly, I felt that both Taylor and Sawyer failed to do their jobs, but Ana and I discussed it, as did Flynn and I, and we all came to the same conclusion: I'm transferring my own guilt for this happening onto Taylor and Sawyer, when in actuality, Jack Hyde is the only one to blame.

I'm glad that we discussed it. I really wasn't fond of the idea of losing Taylor and Sawyer. Ana and the children are very attached to them.

"Have you heard any news on Jason?" Sawyer asks, looking up at me from his chair.

"He's doing much better today. Still not up out of bed though. The impact was much worse for him than the bullet. His airbag didn't properly deploy." I explain, trying to hide the feelings of guilt plaguing me for allowing them to drive a vehicle with faults in the safety mechanisms.

"Mr. Sawyer, it's time to go back to your room." The nurse says quietly.

"Thank you for stopping by, Sawyer." Ana says, smiling fondly at him.

"You take care of yourselves and that little angel." He says, winking at her.

"Don't you dare concern yourself with us right now. Focus on getting better and coming home." She says in a stern voice, though she's grinning at him.

"Yes, Ma'am." He says, nodding as he smiles back at her.

"And stop calling me ma'am. I'm too young to be a ma'am." She teases as the nurse wheels Sawyer out of the room.

…

"ETA?" I ask into my phone as I pace Ana's hospital room, glancing over my shoulder to ensure that she and the baby are still asleep.

"Just landed." Elliott replies.

"Good. I'll see you soon. Drive safe." I tell him before ending the call and tucking my phone into my breast pocket.

"Who was that?" Ana mumbles, and I turn around to find her rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"Surprise." I say, grinning at her.

"Christian, I'm exhausted. I don't think I can handle any more surprises today." She says, struggling not to yawn.

"I think you'll find this one if very much worth the added fatigue." I reply softly, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"What have you done?" She asks, reading my expression as only she can.

"Just a couple of special guests." I tell her vaguely, but her face lights up, like she knows who I'm referring to.

"Are their names CJ and Eli?" She asks, and I can't help my smile.

"Hyde is… gone. It's safe for them to come home." I tell her.

…

"Hey guys!" Ana says excitedly, greeting our children as Elliott enters with one in each arm, followed by Kate.

I stand, ushering Kate toward the chair next to the bed as she slowly waddles into the room.

"Sit." I murmur, taking in her enormous frame.

"Mommy!" CJ squeals, followed by Eli echoing her squeal as Elliott places them on the bed next to me.

"Careful with mommy. She's very tired." I tell them softly, kissing the tops of both of their heads.

"We went to Aspirin!" CJ exclaims, and I grin.

"You did?!" Ana asks excitedly. "What did you do in Asp-EN?" She asks, enunciating the word appropriately. Always the editor.

"I caught a fish THIS BIG!" CJ says opening her arms as wide as she can.

"Me big fish!" Eli says, nodding enthusiastically.

"Eli caught a boot." CJ says rolling his eyes and receiving a disappointed frown from Eli. "But it was a big boot!" She says, patting her brother's shoulder until he smiles again.

"Bee-bee." Eli says, pointing to bassinet.

"Yes, that's the new baby, Eli." Ana replies, smiling fondly at our son.

"What kind did we get?" CJ asks, looking into the bassinet.

"You guys have a new baby sister." I tell them, gently lifting the baby up. I'm getting pretty good at handling her, but I still hear Ana whisper 'support her head' every time.

"YES!" CJ squeals excitedly, but upon looking at Eli's disappointed face, I can tell he was hoping for something else.

"Oh no." He mutters, frowning at the baby.

"What's wrong ,Eli? Don't you like your new sister?" Ana asks, cupping his cheek.

"No. Give. Back." He mutters, crossing his arms. "More. Girls."

"I hear ya, buddy." I tell him, chuckling at his expression. "We've got lots of girls in our house now. That makes us very lucky boys. We have to take good care of our girls though. It's a big boy job."

He eyes me suspiciously for a long moment, but I keep smiling, stepping closer with the baby so that he can see her face.

"She's so small." CJ whispers, and Eli nods.

"She is." I nod.

"What's her name?" She asked, looking expectantly from my face to Ana's.

"We haven't picked a name yet." Ana replies softly.

"We could call her Christian." CJ says firmly.

"We already have TWO Christians." Ana laughs and CJ sighs dramatically.

"We can't call her baby forever!" CJ sighs, and we all agree.

"We'll figure it out soon." I tell her softly.

"You guys can hash that out later." Kate interrupts. "I'd like to hold my niece."

I turn, giving her a warning glare, silently demanding she be careful with my daughter before I hand the baby over.

"Congratulations." Elliott says, shaking my hand, now that it's empty. "She's going to be a heartbreaker, just like her mommy and her big sister. Looks like you boys have got your work cut out for you."

I laugh because I know he's right. If my children are anything like my wife, the world is doomed.

…

"So, now that we're alone…" Ana starts only a short time after Kate and Elliott took the children home.

I glance up from staring at the baby and smile at my wife expectantly.

"She needs a name." She says, and I know she's right. "I still really like –" Ana starts, but she freezes when I glare at her.

I almost regret the conversation we had about my birth mother, but Ana can be extremely persuasive. She has a tendency to drag information out of people, and apparently, she has the ability to drag me to a cemetery to confess my anger to rock with the crack whore's name on it.

I won't deny that it helped me to let go of some of my anger toward her, but I refuse to plague my children with remnants of my past.

"Compromise?" She asks, smiling softly at me.

"Your terms?" I ask, letting the cool CEO shine through. She's proposing a deal of sorts, and I have the upper hand of experience on my side.

"Elizabeth." She says softly. "It's not your birth mother's name, but it's still honouring your past."

I frown, I'm not completely against the name; it's the reasons behind it that make me hesitant.

"We can call her Elle." Ana says, and I roll my eyes.

"Why are you pushing this so much?" I ask softly.

"Christian, you hate her because of what she did to you, but thanks to her and her… issues, Grace and Carrick Grey were given the most precious of gifts, a gift that was then given to me. That perfect little gift in your arms, was born of the gift that one troubled woman gave to all of us." She says, her voice full of emotion. "I'm so thankful for her mistakes because they brought you into my life."

"Ana… I just, I'm not ready to be thankful for her mistakes." I tell her, and she nods.

"Okay, back to the drawing board then." She says, the entire issue gone. It always amazes me how communication seems to solve all of our problems. Maybe Flynn isn't such an idiot.

A knock on the door disturbs us, and Ana sighs. She's really not up for anymore visitors today.

"Mr. Grey?" A young nurse asks, entering the room. "You asked to be informed of Jason Taylor's condition should anything change?"

"Yes. Has there been an improvement?" I ask, smiling at Ana briefly before turning back to the nurse.

"Perhaps you should sit down…" She says, looking very uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Ana asks. "Is he okay?"

"There was a lot of damage to his internal organs, as you know, and the doctors have operated, but they feel it's necessary to operate again. It's very likely that he will need a kidney transplant. Dr. Trevelyan said you'd like to know. I'll come back as soon as I have more information."

"Thank you. Has anyone informed his wife of this?" I ask, going into full on business mode.

"Yes, she was there when Dr. Trevelyan and the surgeons discussed this." The nurse says, and I nod, thanking her before giving her a quick dismissal.

An hour later, my mother bustles into the room in scrubs, apologizing for sending a messenger.

"I've been completely swamped with Taylor's condition, and we had a three vehicle pileup come in." She says, leaning over the bassinet to smile at the baby. "I wanted to update you on Taylor myself, though."

"How is he?" Ana asks, the worry evident in her voice.

"I'm afraid he isn't doing well at all. The prognosis is not in his favour." She replies.

My mother kisses my cheek when her pager goes off before she quickly bustles out of the room again. I sit down in the chair next to Ana's bed and run my hands through my hair.

"He'll be okay, Christian." Ana whispers, but I know she doesn't know that; she's just trying to be comforting.

"I think you should try feeding the baby again." I tell her because it's the only thing I can say.

"Christian…" She murmurs as I rise from the chair and move toward the door. "He's your friend. It's okay to be worried about him."

I turn to face her, intent on denying any feelings whatsoever, but my voice cracks. I nod at her and walk back over to the baby.

"How do you feel about naming her after Taylor?" I ask softly, feeling self conscious about the suggestion.

"You want to name her Jason?" Ana asks with a soft smile.

"No, maybe not Jason in the male sense, but what about Jaisyn?" I ask her, spelling the name out for her. "Taylor is like family, he's… he's the closest thing to a best friend I've ever had. He could—well, I just, feel like we should honour him if…"

"Jaisyn…" She says softly, getting a feel for it and saving me from continuing my awkward and embarrassing confession of my feelings toward Taylor. "My little Jaisie. I like it." She says, smiling up at me. "Jaisyn Grace Grey."

"I thought I told you not to try naming her after anymore of my relatives." I growl, though I can't fight the smile twitching at my mouth.

…


	11. Grey's Girls

A/N: I hope I don't offend any of you nurses out there with this chapter! I've spent a lot of time in hospitals (both emergency room and extended stays), so I'm well aware of the strain nurses face and in no way intend on belittling the profession. I adore all of the nurses I've had, included my cousin! Just thought I'd put that out there!

Also, there have been some questions about WHY I chose Jaisyn instead of just using Taylor. I originally intended on using Taylor as the new baby's name, however I thought it might be too confusing given that everyone calls big Taylor by his last name.

Sorry this was a long wait between chapters, but I've been cleaning my room and organizing my workspace to optimize my homework doing… also I was bored with my current room layout.

There are a few POV changes in this part, so be sure to watch for the grey dividers.

* * *

**Chapter 11 –Grey's Girls:**

I clear my throat, not wanting to disturb her. I'm out of my element right now, feeling helpless, useless really.

"Mr. Grey." Gail says, quickly wiping her eyes on the used tissue in her hand and trying to compose herself.

"I thought you might be hungry." I say, holding the bag toward her awkwardly.

It's after six, and I'm almost positive she hasn't left the hospital for a decent meal.

"You didn't need to do that, Sir." She says softly, though she gratefully accepts it.

I nod, unsure how to proceed. Ana raised a good point when she asked me why I'd feel awkward bringing Gail food and finding out if she's heard anymore on Taylor's condition. The woman cooks for me and cleans up after me, including the discreet task of servicing my kinky playroom. There is no line in terms of my relationship with Gail.

"You need to eat." I say sternly, replying in the same manner I would with Ana or the children. "It's just some sandwiches from the shop down the road."

"Thank you, Sir." She replies, and I nod.

"I was wondering if you'd heard anything further on Taylor's condition." I say, trying to ask casually, though I'm not sure one can ask such a thing in a casual manner.

"Nothing yet. There was a shift change with the nurses, apparently. This new batch isn't being very helpful, so I thought I'd wait Dr. Trevelyan to have a moment." She says, and my eyes widen with horror.

"Nobody has given you an update since shift change? That was over two hours ago." I tell her, though I'm sure she already knows. "Excuse me."

I walk out of the room and directly toward the nurse's station, intent on getting information and giving them a little information of my own.

I approach the counter surrounding desks and computers and shelves with charts, knocking on it loudly to get the attention of the chattering nurses.

"Can I help you?" A young looking nurse with curly blonde hair asks, leaning forward on the counter and smiling at me.

It's just a pretty face, baby. I groan silently.

"My friend went up for exploratory surgery several hours ago. I'd like an update, and while you're getting that, I'd like to know why his wife hasn't been able to get one of you underpaid lackies to tell her what the hell is going on with her husband." I snap, glaring into her bubbly green eyes and watching for the shock to settle over the oogling.

"Uhm… what's your friend's name?" She asks, pulling something up on the computer.

"Jason Taylor." I say curtly, watching as she enters his name into some kind of database, pulling up his file.

"Oh, he's been back in his room for about 40 minutes now." She says casually. "You guys can go on in."

I glare at her slamming my fist down on the counter.

"He's been in his room for nearly an hour and not one of you idiots thought to inform his wife that he made it out of the operating room?" I shout, startling the group of young nurses, who look as though they just graduated five minutes ago.

"Sir, you're going to need to calm down." Green eyes says quietly.

"No, you're going to need to get on the ball. I am a huge benefactor to this hospital and the local universities that trained all of you. Short of an emergent situation taking you away, I want someone checking in on Mr. Taylor and his wife every twenty minutes." I demand, pointing to the room where Gail is waiting quietly. "She needs something, you get it! I want her constantly updated, even when there's been nothing new. If I come back and find out she's not been given the most attentive service you've ever seen, I will pull every dime I put into this disgrace of a hospital and ensure that each and every one of you are out of work."

Green eyes, along with the other nurses now listening, nod, agreeing to my terms. I turn quickly, both to intimidate them by ending the conversation abruptly and because I can't fight my grin any longer. As if I'd pull funding from the hospital my mother works at? At least none of them seemed to know the relation, or maybe they believe I'm that much of a shark.

…

* * *

I stiffen in my hospital bed, startled awake by a dream I can't quite recall now, though I'm sure it has to do with Jack Hyde and the three days I spent in his torture chamber. I instantly reach through the darkness of the room toward the bassinet to check on Jaisyn, but my hand feels nothing but the cotton sheet.

"Christian?" I call out, feeling panic setting in as I fumble to find the light. "Christian!" I shout louder, startling even myself.

The light suddenly flicks on, and I see Gail walk through the doorway, a tiny swaddled bundle cradled in her arms.

"Is everything all right, Ana?" She asks, and I sigh, relieved that the unthinkable hasn't happened.

"I had a nightmare." I confess without thinking. "I thought—the baby was gone…"

"I'm sorry. I popped in to sit with the baby while you slept. Mr. Grey needed to make a call and didn't want to leave you two sleeping alone for too long." She says, walking toward me and placing my baby in my arms.

"Thank you." I say, grateful that someone is keeping their eyes open when I, so obviously, cannot.

"She'll probably want to nurse. I just changed her, and she's been wide awake for about fifteen minutes now." Gail tells me, and I feel so lucky to be surrounded by people like her.

"Thank you." I say again, because I don't know what else I can say. "How is Taylor?" I ask, wondering if she's heard anything since he was brought back down from surgery.

"He's going to need a transplant of his left kidney." She says, her voice cracking as she sits down next to my bed.

"I'm so sorry." I tell her genuinely. "We will make sure he gets the surgery, Gail. No price will stand in our way." I tell her, knowing full well that it's illegal to pay a donor for an organ, but I want her to know that we will take care of Taylor, regardless of what waiting list he's going on.

"We could never ask you and Mr. Grey to do something like that." She says, frowning at me.

"You didn't ask." I say firmly, and she smiles, shaking her head at me.

…

* * *

"Darling?" Carrick's voice interrupts my thoughts.

The day has been insane, and I've not had a moment's peace to think about what happened earlier, not that I'm complaining because now, in the quiet of the night, I'm terrified to close my eyes.

Carrick and I have always been anti-gun. It's the one thing we always agree on, even when it seems we can't agree on anything. Carrick has had his share of gun violence in the court system, and me, well I constantly patch up people, young and old, male and female, children even, who have been victims of gun violence. I'd never held a gun in my life, until today.

"You've been brushing your hair for an hour." He says softly, standing behind me and looking into my eyes through the mirror of my vanity. "If this about Christian shooting that man…" He says softly, knowing that my world begins and ends with our children. "It was self defense, Darling. He won't be punished for it."

"You're sure?" I ask, fighting the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Absolutely. There's no question in my mind. He may be reprimanded for entering the residence before the authorities arrived, but I doubt it. In light of everything, he looks like a hero." Carrick replies, gently taking my hair brush from my hand. "Come to bed."

I try to smile as he leans down and kisses my cheek, but I instinctively pull away, turning back toward the mirror and retrieving my hairbrush again off the surface of my vanity.

"Gracie?" He asks, his voice laced with more concern than he should ever have to carry. "Grace." He says more forcefully when I don't meet his eyes in the mirror or turn around to face him entirely.

I try to hold in a sob, but it escapes, and I finally risk a glance at his face, watching as his expression transforms from ignorant concern to realization of what is upsetting me so.

"It was you." He whispers, and I nod softly, letting my tears run freely down my face. "Oh, Darling." He says, his voice remaining soft and soothing as he pulls me to my feet and wraps his arms around my body, holding me to his chest as I cry into his shoulder, my body wracked with painful sobs.

"You must hate me." I sob, the guilt and magnitude of the entire day finally purging itself from my body.

"Hate you?" He asks, his voice sounding so bewildered.

"I killed a man, Cary." I whisper, unable to say the words any louder for fear of who might hear. "I betrayed all of our values, your values." I continue.

"You betrayed nothing of mine, Gracie." He says, placing a kiss on the top of my thoroughly brushed hair. "You SAVED my son. You save Anastasia and our granddaughter and that young woman. For that, I owe you a million thanks, Darling. I could never hate you."

I lean back, staring up at my husband's kind face with my watery eyes.

"Carrick, he took control immediately. Made it look like he'd done it himself. There wasn't a moment's hesitation. He—he protected me as if it was the most natural reaction in the world." I tell him, still feeling the shock of our son's actions.

"He adores you, Grace. He'd never let any harm come to you, even it meant taking responsibility for something he hadn't done." Carrick says, and I nod, realizing that truer words never were spoken. "I'm convinced the boy would jump in front a bullet himself to protect you from harm's way." He continues, and I can't help but smile because I know he's not completely wrong.

"Despite everything he's been through, he really did turn out to be a wonderful man." I say softly, resting my cheek against Carrick's chest.

"Because of you." He replies, hugging me tighter.

"I'm not sure I can take all of the credit." I tell him.

"No, no. I taught him how to clean up his messes and know his rights. You taught him to be compassionate and protective, well, maybe Mia helped in that as well." He says, smiling fondly at me.

I give him a tender smile, but I'm not so easily distracted.

"What do we do about this?" I ask, wondering if I should take responsibility.

"It will look much worse if we come out and say that we've been lying to the police about what happened, and with Christian's white knight routine and his troubles with Detective Clark, I'm not sure it would be wise for you to confess to the crime." He says, and my eyes widen with shock.

My husband is telling me to lie, or rather, continue to lie, to the police and the judicial system? He's telling me to risk my son having this on his record for his entire life?

"This could ruin his life." I whisper, silently begging my husband to tell me about some magical eraser that could remove this entire event from our son's life.

"I won't let anything happen to Christian." He promises before his tone changes. "Who else knows what really happened?"

"Just Christian. The young woman was there, but I'm not sure she saw anything. The poor dear was utterly traumatized. She's been in a catatonic state since we arrived at the cabin." I explain, and Carrick nods thoughtfully.

"Good. Let's keep it between the three of us. I'd like to talk to Christian first thing in the morning. No need for him to burden Anastasia with having to lie as well. Better she doesn't know at all." He explains, and I nod. "Now, you get into bed, and I'll fetch you some warm milk to help you sleep."

I smile gratefully as he kisses my forehead and leaves the room. I'm not sure warm milk is going to help me sleep, but the sedative in our bathroom medicine cabinet might do the trick.

…

"Good morning." I say as brightly as I can, plastering a warm smile on my face as I enter Ana's room.

I wonder briefly if I'm the only one pretending in here. Ana has been through an ordeal herself, and Christian, well, he's taking a proverbial bullet for the actual bullet I fired.

"Morning, Mom." Christian replies, rising from the edge of Ana's bed to kiss my cheek.

"Morning." Ana says softly, glancing up with a soft smile before looking back down at her nursing infant.

"How is our lovely girl today? Is she eating well?" I ask, going into doctor mode and picking up Ana's chart from the end of the bed.

"We're doing just fine. I'd actually like to go home today." Ana says, and I frown.

I don't blame her. She's gone from one prison to another with all of the security Christian has hired to park up and down the halls of the ward.

"I think we can manage that." I reply, nodding softly. "As long as you're both eating and eliminating appropriately." I add.

I watch her face flush slightly, and can't help the genuine smile that twitches at my lips. It's so endearing to see that she's still the blushing young lady she's always been. Maybe less so now, but it's still there.

"They're both fine. I've been making sure." Christian replies before Ana has a chance, and I watch as my daughter-in-law shoots my son the most indignant look she has. "And the bleeding is subsiding to a normal flow as well." He adds.

"Christian!" Ana groans.

"I'll get your discharge papers." I tell them, unable to hide a small chuckle that escapes with my words. "I also have some information for you about Taylor. It appears a donor has volunteered specifically for Taylor. He came with all of his recent blood work and is a perfect match." I explain, glad to have good news for them.

"That's wonderful!" Ana exclaims, and I watch Christian nod with a knowing smile.

"Yes, how convenient for that to have happened so quickly. We'll be sure to send a large floral arrangement to the donor's room. I'm sure he'd appreciate the best accommodations available as well. Spare no cost. I'll handle it." He says, and I narrow my eyes at him.

I know when my son is up to something. I know that look, that cat ate the canary grin and the twinkle in his eyes.

"I'll be sure to let him know where to send the thank-you note, Darling." I tell him. "Come, let's go get Ana's discharge papers. I have some charts I need to put away." I lie, but it's the only way I can get him away from Ana's side.

"Sure." He agrees, smiling back at his wife and daughter before we leave the room together.

"We need to talk." I mutter softly, leading him into the doctor's lounge area. "Have you told Ana what really happened?" I ask as we sit on the over-stuffed sofa.

"She knows that I shot Hyde." He replies, and I'm glad he knows what I'm referring to.

"Christian, you and both know—"

"That I shot that son of a bitch, Mom." He cuts me off, staring into my eyes as if to impress on me that he will take the truth to his grave.

"I told your father the truth. He just knew, and I couldn't deny it. He agrees that we should stick with that telling. It would look bad if we suddenly changed our story, and Clark is just itching to get to you." I tell him, and he nods.

"I agree. I have a meeting with him this afternoon. " He explains. "I'd like for someone, family, to be at the apartment with Ana and the children."

"I'm sure her parents would be glad to babysit your wife and children." I tease, but his expression is grim.

"Is Mia still angry with me?" He asks, having heard from Kate and Elliott that his baby sister has been livid with him.

"She'll get over it." I tell him with a sympathetic smile. "She feels like you treat her like a child, and don't you know she has a life here." I tell him, the last bit in the stubborn imitation of my daughter's repeated complaint.

"I'll try to come by and talk to her soon." He promises as we rise from the couch.

"Good. Darling, before we leave, I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you." I tell him, feeling very hesitant.

"Anything." He says honestly, and I'm inclined to believe that he really does mean ANYTHING.

"You really like Doctor Flynn, don't you?" I ask nervously. "You trust him, his opinions?"

"Yes." He says, nodding at me with questioning eyes.

"I thought that, perhaps I might speak to someone…" I trail off. "About what happened." I finish, my voice merely a whisper.

"I'll get you his number this afternoon." He says softly, taking my hand into both of his. "You can trust Flynn. You can tell him the truth. I can go with you, if you like." He offers, and I nod.

"I would like that." I agree, giving him a grateful smile.

…

* * *

It feels much better lying in my bed with my wife next to me, as opposed to the recent nights I'd spent wondering where she was. She's asleep, her head on my chest, but I can't seem to find rest myself. I'm terrified that if I close my eyes, Ana and the baby will disappear, that when I wake up, this will all have been a dream.

"_Jack Hyde is dead, Christian."_

Her words from our conversation at dinner echoes in my mind.

"_He won't be coming back. He can't hurt us again."_

She's right. He is dead, but I can't help the nagging feeling that there was more to the story. That we're not quite done this particular war, and it's left me uneasy.

I smile as Ana mumbles 'I love you' in her sleep, and I tighten my arm around her body. She doesn't normally stay in this position for long after she's fallen asleep, but she's been gripping onto me like her life depends on it, like if she lets go of me, she'll fall away again, into whatever dark abyss she was kept in.

It's ironic that she's comforting me. I should be comforting her. I haven't seen her break down or even show any pain toward what she's been through, and I'm not sure if this is healthy or not. Is she in denial? Shock? I'm terrified to think of the long-term effects this entire experience will have on her. She said she'd like to talk to me about, but we haven't yet, and I wonder if perhaps she's not ready. It could be the fact that we've not had a moment of peace in the flurry of excitement in the last thirty or so hours.

I want her to open up to me about this, but I'm afraid I won't be able to handle what she tells me. I saw that room. It was a crude rendition of a playroom. Images of Hyde using the tools and equipment in that room on my Ana have been flashing in my mind since the moment I saw her gagged and chained to the wall. How will I ever fix her, help her to be the sweet woman, full of innocent charm that she once was with those negative experiences plaguing her? How will she feel if she walks past our playroom? Will those three days haunt her, ruin this home for her?

"I'll tear it all out. Throw everything away." I whisper, though I know she's fast asleep and can't hear my promise.


	12. Fairytales

A/N: Time to vote - should I keep Kate's original baby as one of the twins or would you rather I make something else up?

Also, you may notice some direct quotes from the book in this part because I thought the description was great just the way it was. I do not take credit for the original words of E.L. James.

**Chapter 12 – Fairytales:**

I wake up, not to the sound of my crying infant, but to a clanging sound. Looking at the bassinet next to my bed, I find a small note, written in Christian's handwriting.

_**Thought you needed to rest.  
I am fed, changed, and in the living room.**_

_**Love, Jaisyn.**_

I sigh, thankful for the breast milk that I pumped before bed. Christian insisted that we should have back up bottles in the refrigerator. I think it's hard for him to think about me being the only source of food for our baby. He needs to know she'll never be hungry. I can live with that kind of control. I understand his need to control that.

I walk through the hall and into the living room to find the children playing with Prescott, Ryan, and Reynolds.

"Where's Christian?" I ask, wrapping my robe around my body just a little tighter.

"Mr. Grey is working in the room upstairs." Ryan replies, and I nod. That would explain the banging noises.

"Mommy, look, the baby is like a puppy." CJ says, stroking the sleeping baby's tiny nose with her index finger and causing it to crinkle up.

"Don't pet your sister, please." I say, picking Jaisyn up from the vibrating chair on the floor. "Have they eaten?" I ask, looking to the security detail.

"Mr. Grey made them breakfast." Prescott replies hesitantly.

"So they haven't eaten?" I ask in a teasing tone, and I watch as they all try to hide their smiles. "I'm going to go check on Daddy, and then I'll come down and make you guys some French toast, okay?"

"YES!" CJ squeals.

"My love toast!" Eli says, nodding his head vigorously.

"I love toast, Eli." CJ says, emphasizing the first word.

"Noooo! MY love toast too!" He says, stomping his foot.

"Yes, you both love toast." I laugh before wandering out of the living room and toward the stairs. "Let's go see what your crazy daddy is doing." I murmur to Jaisyn, cradled in the crook of my left arm as we climb the stairs.

I follow the sounds until I'm standing outside the closed door of the playroom. I knock, and open the door when there's no answer. He must not have heard me. My breath catches in my throat when I see my husband, wearing a pair of jeans, his t-shirt tossed on the floor, and his muscled back rippling and glistening with sweat.

I bite my lip as he puts his electric drill down and runs his hand through his sweaty hair. He turns, the spell broken, when Jaisyn lets out a wail.

"What are you doing in here?" He asks, and I raise a brow at him.

"I could ask you the same thing." I reply, eyeing the disassembled cross lying on the floor and the faded space on the wall surrounding the area where it once was.

"I'm renovating." He says simply, picking up his t-shirt and using it to wipe his moist face before walking toward me.

"I never really pictured you as the do-it-yourselfer type." I point out, forcing my eyes to remain on his face and not his perfectly toned abs.

I feel like a succubus, craving my man. It probably has something to do with the six week wait Grace gave us.

"I just wanted it done. I didn't feel like looking for someone, and Taylor isn't around to help me." He mumbles.

"But why are you—" I stop, my eyes widening as I realize why he's doing this. "Christian, I'm okay. You don't need to do this for me." I tell him, though his troubled expression tells me he doesn't believe me.

"You haven't really said anything about what happened." He points out, and I realize he's right.

I haven't. I haven't actually felt the need to discuss it. I'm glad to be home, and I'm glad that Jack is not a threat anymore, and my family is safe, but I don't feel traumatized by what happened. I don't feel like it has ruined my life.

"Christian, when I was in that basement, I was grateful that I was there. Jack's first intention was to take CJ, and I was so glad that Danielle messed up and took me." I tell him, walking into the room and sitting down on the bench. "I'm stronger than I look, you know. It's going to take a lot more than some crazy asshole to break me."

"I saw you, Ana. You were chained up like an animal, crying and bleeding." He says, sitting next to me.

"Childbirth is painful and messy, Christian. You and your Armani blazer can attest to that." I tease, adjusting the baby in my arms. "Jack didn't want ME; he wanted the baby. I had three meals a day and frequent bathroom breaks. If you should be concerned about anyone's well being, it's Danielle. She—it was like she'd accepted that this was her life, and she was okay with it." I explain, sighing heavily. "I knew you would come for me, and I had hope and faith in you. I knew you would find me."

He still looks unsure about it, and I take a deep breath, shifting closer to him.

"When Jack pulled out the ball gag, I knew he was going to use it on me, and I knew there wasn't going to be a safe word or a hand gesture, but what I did know was that I was prepared for this. Christian, you think you're the same kind of person as Jack because you have… eclectic tastes in the bedroom, but you're not. You're two very different people." I say, staring into his eyes, trying to impress this upon him. "You were gentle and guiding and educating. You taught me how to control a situation when I was under someone else's control."

"I did?" He asks, his face beginning to relax.

"You saved me, Christian. Memories of you and the children and our life together, it kept me grounded and sane and hopeful that the terrible situation would be over eventually. I'm okay because of YOU." I say, using my free hand to stroke a damp curl away from his forehead.

"So you're not afraid of the playroom?" He asks, and I shake my head.

"I mean, I'm not sure I'd like to be restrained anytime soon, but that's more because of the wounds on my wrists." I say softly, glancing down at the long sleeves of my robe. I wore it on purpose, knowing the bandages covering the marks make him uncomfortable.

"I thought that you would be like Danielle, lost and adrift in your own mind, replaying all of the horrible things he did to you in that room." He confesses, staring into my eyes.

"He did a lot of horrible things to Danielle, but not me, Christian. I was a glitch in his master plan." I tell him with a smile. "I seem to be in a pain in the ass sometimes."

"Do I have the right to remain silent right now?" He asks, raising his brows at me.

"Yes, and you also have the right to kiss your wife and come downstairs because I'm making French toast." I say, standing up from the bench.

"Good. I tried to make eggs this morning, but the entire pan caught fire." He says, and I smirk. "By the way, we need to buy new pans. I think the ones we had we faulty."

…

"So, Taylor is having his surgery today." I say casually to Christian as we watch Grace showing Jaisyn off to some of her colleagues.

"Yes. It was very convenient that a donor came forward so quickly." He says casually, and I nod, wondering if he knows what I did.

"Yep, I guess we're just lucky." I reply, and I watch his face slowly turn toward me.

"Mrs. Grey, the day we met, I told you that I don't subscribe to luck or chance, that the harder I work, the more luck I have." He says, and I smirk, wondering if he remembers every single word we've ever spoken to each other.

"I'm sorry. I don't recall that conversation." I say coyly.

"I don't believe you." He says casually, staring intently into my eyes.

"I am inclined to agree with you, though." I say with a smirk. "It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing them accordingly." I say, quoting his own words from that interview back to him.

That part I remember vividly because not only did I listen to it on the recorder several times when Kate was working on the article, but it was also quoted in said article. I also may or may not have stolen the tape one night and listened to our entire conversation on repeat just to hear the sound of his voice.

"I couldn't agree more, Mrs. Grey." He says, his voice cool, but I know he's just playing a silly part in our playful repartee.

"I'm glad we can agree, Mr. Grey." I reply, maintaining the same cool and casual tone.

"You sound like a control freak, Mrs. Grey." He says, a smile twitching at his lips as he quotes my outburst in that first interview.

"I exercise control in all things." I reply, quoting him again.

"That reminds me, you still have control over your checking account in Georgia, correct?" He asks, and I physically feel myself pale.

"Of course. I haven't decided what to do with the money. It's not like we NEED it. I thought it would be fine to just leave it. Maybe the children can dip into it when they're older." I say, hoping that sounds logical.

"Yes, perhaps they could if it hadn't recently been drained." He says, and I realize that there really are no secrets between us.

"Oh, that's right." I say, nodding as if I'm remembering something. "I went shopping." I say because it's the first thing that comes to mind.

His snort of disbelief tells me that I probably should have thought that response through.

"Thank you." He says softly, meeting my worried eyes. "It was a good idea. The account is virtually untraceable and not connected to our actual accounts. Nobody in Seattle would notice such a large withdrawal."

"I told you, it's all about having the right people on your team." I reply, smiling up at him as Grace brings the baby back to us.

…

"Are we there yet?!" CJ groans from the backseat.

"No." Christian says simply. I can tell he's getting irritated with that question.

"I'm BORED!" She shouts, kicking the back of his seat.

"Take a nap." I say, interjecting before his glare at her in the mirror turns into something else.

"I'm not sleepy." She says, crossing her arms.

"Daddy is trying to give us a nice surprise. Sit nicely, and we'll be there soon." I say, over my shoulder.

She huffs, but turns and stares out the window in silence before I turn back around and place my hand on Christian's thigh, calming him.

He slams on the breaks, jerking us all forward when CJ lets out a blood curdling scream.

"What's wrong?" We both shout, turning around to see her grinning and both Eli and Jaisyn begin to cry.

"I'M SO BORED! I HATE THIS STUPID CAR!" She shouts, and I watch as Christian roughly puts the car into park and whips his seatbelt off. He opens his door, climbing out before slamming it shut again and opening CJ's.

I stare, wondering what he's doing. We're on the side of the road. He leans in and unbuckles CJ, lifting her out of her seat and carrying her to the other side of the car, away from the road.

"You have three options: You can sit nicely in your seat until we arrive at our destination, you can ride in the trunk where I can't hear you complain, or you can stand here and miss out on the surprise. We'll pick you up on our way back home." He says, and my eyes widen.

"You can't leave me here!" She shouts, stomping her foot on the gravel.

"I can, and I will if you don't behave yourself." He says glaring down at her.

"I'll be good." She grumbles, and I watch him pick her back up and put her into her seat, buckling her up and closing her door firmly before taking his own spot in the driver's seat.

As we pull back onto the road, I smile discreetly at him.

"Very good, Mr. Grey." I murmur softly, impressed with him being stern with her. It's taken him a while, but he's really stepped into his daddy shoes, and I couldn't be more proud.

He shrugs, but I can see the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. He's proud of himself, and he should be.

A few minutes later, Christian turns sharply left, and we're confronted by two ornate white metal gates set in a six-foot-high, sandstone wall. Christian presses a button on his door handle and the electric window hums quietly down into the doorframe. He punches a number into the keypad and the gates swing open in welcome.

We head up a tree-lined lane just wide enough for two cars. On one side, the trees ring a densely wooded area, and on the other there's a vast area of grassland where a once-cultivated field has been left fallow. Grasses and wildflowers have reclaimed it, creating a rural idyll—a meadow, where the breeze softly ripples through the grass and the sun gilds the wildflowers. It's lovely—utterly tranquil, and suddenly I imagine myself lying in the grass and gazing up at a clear blue summer sky, and the children running through the meadow, like in my day dream.

The lane curves around and opens into a sweeping driveway in front of an impressive Mediterranean-style house of soft pink sandstone. It's palatial. All the lights are on, each window brightly illuminated. There's a smart, black BMW parked in front of the four-car garage, but Christian pulls up outside the grand portico.

I suddenly know exactly what this surprise is. He wants to buy this house. Why else would he bring us here?

The large, dark wooden doors open and a striking woman appears in the doorway, greeting Christian with her my-god-he's-dreamy expression plastered to her face.

"Olga Kelly, my wife Anastasia." Christian introduces us casually. "This is our daughter Christian, our son Elliott." He says, as he helps our older two children out of the back of the car. "And this," He says, lifting Jaisyn's car seat out of the middle of the seat, "This is our youngest daughter Jaisyn."

"Your children are just beautiful, Mr. Grey." She says, smiling down at them. "How would you guys like to take a look inside?" She asks, though she's using a pitchy, disingenuous tone of voice that makes me wonder if it's all for show because Christian is a very big commission for her.

"YES!" CJ shouts.

"Stay with your brother!" I call after her as she runs into the house with Eli trailing close behind her.

"Have a look around; let me know if you have any questions." Miss Kelly says, ushering us into the house.

It's a shock when I step in. The place is empty—completely empty. We find ourselves in a large entrance hall. The walls are a faded primrose yellow with scuffmarks where pictures must once have hung. All that remains are the old-fashioned crystal light fixtures. The floors are dull hardwood. There are closed doors to either side of us, but Christian gives me no time to assimilate what's happening.

"Come," he says, and taking my hand, he leads me through the archway in front of us into a larger inner vestibule. It's dominated by a curved, sweeping staircase with an intricate iron balustrade but still he doesn't stop. He takes me through to the main living area, which is empty, save for a large faded gold rug—the biggest rug I have ever seen. Oh—and there are four crystal chandeliers.

We head across the room and outside through open French doors to a large stone terrace. Below us there's half a football field of manicured lawn, but beyond that is the view. Wow.

The panoramic, uninterrupted vista is breathtaking—staggering even: the Sound. Oh my.

"It's beautiful." I murmur, taking in my surroundings.

"How would you like to look at it for the rest of your life?" he breathes.

I smile at his expression, a mixture of awe and question. We've been looking for a new home for a while, but none have seemed right for us.

"I've always wanted to live on the coast. I sail up and down the Sound coveting these houses. This place hasn't been on the market long. I want to buy it, demolish it, and build a new house—for us," he whispers, and his eyes glow, translucent with his hopes and dreams.

"Why do you want to demolish it?" I ask, looking back at him. His face falls slightly. Oh no.

"I'd like to make a more sustainable home, using the latest ecological techniques. Elliot could build it."

I gaze back at the room again. Miss Olga Kelly is on the far side, hovering by the entrance. I notice the room is huge and double height, a little like the great room at Escala. There's a balcony above—that must be the landing on the second floor. There's a huge fireplace and a whole line of French doors opening onto the terrace. It has an old-world charm.

As we make our way through the house, Miss Kelly points out specifics and features that might be appealing to us. The house is a little shabby, but it's nothing that a little TLC wouldn't fix. I can see us raising our children here, growing old together here in the beautiful home.

I can hardly contain my excitement . . . this house has everything I could ever wish for in a home.

"Couldn't you make the existing house more ecological and self-sustaining?"

Christian blinks at me, nonplussed. "I'd have to ask Elliot. He's the expert in all this."

Miss Kelly leads us into the master suite where full height windows open onto a balcony, and the view is still spectacular. I could sit in bed and gaze out all day, watching the sailing boats and the changing weather.

…

The drive home was blissful. The children all slept soundly as we made our way back south on the I-5, and I'm in seventh heaven. The house was perfect.

"So you like it then?" Christian asks as I sit on our bed, nursing Jaisyn.

"I love it. It's large enough for all of us, even Taylor and Gail and Sophie on the weekends." I say wistfully. "Plus, all of your added security won't get in my way by hovering in the doorways of the apartment." I add.

After a long stretch of silence, I finally ask the question that's been sitting in the back of mind all day. "Are you going to put in a playroom?"

I see him tense and eye me warily as if I've asked him a trick question.

"Do you want a playroom?" He asks, sounding uneasy.

"I don't know. I mean, I don't NOT want one." I reply. "If that's what you're concerned about."

"We can always decide later if we want to put one in." He says after a long moment. "Or we can just improvise." He adds, giving me a sidelong smirk.

…


	13. Discoveries

A/N: So, I know that last chapter had a really big chunk of direct quote from the book, but I liked the description of the house, and I really wanted to indicate that it was the same house from the original book. Because you got somewhat shafted with that chapter by getting recycled chunks, I hope this one will entice you to call off the lynch mob. =D (though, there is a bit of quoted text in this part as well.)

I'm really trying to pump out these chapters and get everything I need to cover done in them, but I don't like to rush it and give you less than you deserve in terms of content and quality. It is, however, the very last weekend before my three sentence (without parole) in the prison called higher education, so I REALLY want to get this done before then. I promise, if it's not finished by Tuesday, when I start school, I will continue to write as much as possible before my homework and study load gets too heavy. I've heard the first week or so is more about going over course outlines and ensuring you have all of your books, so I'm sure I won't be dedicating every waking moment to studying.

Anywho, enough rambling!

**Chapter 13 – Discoveries:**

I wander into Christian's study, absently looking for some form of entertainment. CJ is at school, and both Eli and Jaisyn are napping. Christian is in here, working, as usual, which is something I could and should be doing, but I'm too exhausted to read a manuscript right now.

Christian glances up at me from his computer screen, his phone perched between his ear and his shoulder as he types something. He smiles at me briefly before going back to his call, so I sit down gingerly in the chair in front of his desk, causing him to look up again at me and give me a questioning look with a tilt of his head.

I smile and shrug, leaning back in the chair and tucking my leg underneath me, to alleviate some of the pressure of sitting flat on my rear.

"Just a second, Andrea." He says into the phone. "Do you need me?" He asks, sounding concerned.

"No, I was just bored. The babies are sleeping." I say, sighing as I fidget with the corner of his desk. I know it bothers him. He hates when I fidget.

"I have some things that need to be sorted through. I let all of this pile up while you were… over the last couple of days." He says, pointing to a stack of papers and mail. "You want to sort through and find anything that might be urgent?"

"Sure!" I reply brightly, excited for a change of pace. I glance up at him, grinning, and I'm met with a grin of his own, along with him shaking his head as he resumes his call.

I sift through the pile, opening mail and sorting it into piles of junk, work, and finances. I come across a manila envelope with no return address or stamp and hold it up to him with silent question in my eyes. He shrugs, and shakes his head; it's obvious that he's distracted by whatever Andrea is telling him. I'm pretty sure I heard the phrase hostile takeover thrown around a couple of times, but I haven't really been paying attention. When Christian buys a company, it's almost always a hostile takeover.

I rip open the top of the envelope and pull out a letter. It's handwritten in red ink on a thick off-white cotton blend paper.

I begin to read the note, but it really doesn't make any sense to me.

_**Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are, Baby Bird. **_

I pause, and frown at the ink. Who would send something like this?

"I'll call you back." I hear him say, though the words don't register until he continues. I'm enthralled with trying to decipher this strange script. "Ana, What's wrong?" Christian asks, his voice startling me back to reality.

"This is a really weird letter." I reply, handing him the note and the envelope. He takes, and I watch his eyes move back and forth as he skims over the words. He pauses suddenly, his gaze slowly rising toward mine.

"Wait here." He mumbles, rising from his chair and striding purposefully out of his study, letter in hand.

I sit, perplexed in the chair and wait for him to return. I don't know why, but I'm compelled to listen to his command, rather than challenge it by following him.

When he returns, he's carrying a book, which he quickly flips through while he takes his seat. "Look." He says, handing me the book.

I take it and look at the page, reading the words slowly. The words jump out at me immediately.

Baby Bird.

I close the book and look at the cover. 'Are You My Mother?'

"What does this mean, Christian?" I ask, feeling bile rising in my throat at all of the crazy possibilities.

"It means that fucker, Hyde, has been in our house! Watching our children! CJ loves this book! How the hell would he know that if he wasn't watching them?" He snaps, snatching the book from my hand and slamming it on the desk, along with the letter.

I watch him pick up the phone and jab down a speed dial number, his jaw clenching and relaxing rapidly as he waits for an answer.

"Welch!" He snaps, and I jump at the tone of his voice. "Where are you on the rest of Hyde's history?"

I watch his face, gauging his reaction to whatever Mr. Welch is telling him, but his face is impassive as he stares at the wall behind me.

"Get it to me now!" He shouts. "And get me all of his banking and credit information for the last year. I want to know everything he's purchased and where. That son of a bitch was in my house!"

I stare, wide-eyed and panicked at the thought of Jack being in my home, watching my children, familiarizing himself with their routines. I watch, as my eyes fill with tears, Christian slam the phone down and meet my gaze. I can't see his eyes; my own vision is blurred, and I feel myself beginning to sob.

"Baby, don't cry." His voice whispers, and I feel his arms around me. "He's dead. He's not coming back here, and I promise you, nobody will ever get into our home again."

"Why wouldn't he try to take CJ when he was in here?" I ask, perplexed and violated at the thought of this man sitting in wait, creeping through our home like a thief in the night.

"I don't know, but Welch is on his way over now. He's going to sweep the entire house and dust for prints. We'll know exactly where Hyde has been." He says, stroking my hair as I press my face into his chest.

…

I watch, standing in the doorway as Welch dusts CJ's bedroom for prints and collects hair fibers from the rug, labeling everything and tucking it into a large black case.

"I'm going to take a sample from her hairbrush as well, to compare with the hairs found around the room." He says, waiting for Christian to nod and give him the okay to take our child's DNA. "I should probably take a sample from everyone in the household, security excluded. I have their DNA already on file."

"Good. Take whatever you need. I'll be in my study." Christian says, turning toward me, silently commanding me to follow him out of the room.

I do because I'm not sure what else to do with myself.

"I'm going to check in on the babies." I say softly, stopping at Eli's bedroom door first. I'm satisfied when I see him sleeping soundly in his toddler bed, his thumb held loosely between his teeth and his blanket tangled around his legs. I check to make sure his baby monitor is turned on before leaving the room, and closing the door gently behind me.

I stop in the nursery on my way past it as well, making eye contact with Christian, waiting for me at the end of the hall before I enter the room. I approach the bassinet and smile at the sleeping infant. She looks so peaceful, and I can't believe how well she sleeps, considering CJ was awake 99% of the time as a newborn. Maybe I just don't feel as worn out by Jaisyn because I have so many more people to help with her. I check her monitor as well before leaving the nursery, satisfied that both of the babies are safe and sound, and when they awake, their cries will be broadcasted over the Bluetooth speaker system in the living room.

"All good?" Christian asks as I catch up to him in the hall. I nod silently, allowing him to take my hand firmly in his and lead me toward his office.

I watch him sit down in his chair and pull out a thick file that Welch gave him. "This is all the same bullshit he's already told me." Christian mutters irritably as he flips through the documents.

He freezes on something, and I watch his gaze grow dark and distant. His hand begins to shake, and he drops whatever he was holding onto the desk.

"What's wrong?" I ask, reaching for what appears to be a photograph, but he snatches it quickly, shoving it into the file and slamming the folder shut.

"It's nothing." He assures me quickly, but, frankly, I don't believe him.

"It was obviously something." I mutter petulantly. He's always cutting me out.

"Don't test me, Anastasia, not right now." He says, his voice dark and cold, so much so, it sends shivers down my spine as I stare into his glaring grey eyes.

"This affects all of us! You don't get to keep secrets from me, Christian Grey!" I shout, rising from my seat and storming out of his office. I'm not completely sure because I refused to stop or look back at him, but I think I heard him gasp.

Good. Be shocked by my outburst.

…

I'm typing ferociously on my laptop, doing my own digging on Jack Hyde, when Christian comes into the bedroom carrying the baby in the crook of his left arm, and Eli on his right hip, his small blond head leaning on Christian's shoulder and his thumb tucked firmly in his mouth.

"Jaisyn needs to be changed and fed. Do you want to nurse, or should I give her a bottle?" He asks, and a part of me wonders if he brought the babies into the room as a form of protection..

"I'll take her." I reply coolly, moving my laptop and allowing him to place her into my arms. "There is some leftover pasta salad in the fridge if you want to feed Eli." I add, giving him a vague idea of my desire for him to be in any other room than the one I'm currently occupying.

"Okay. I'll bring you something too." He says, his voice soft. I risk a glance at his face and am met with the biggest wounded puppy eyes staring warily at me.

"I'm not hungry." I lie, simply because I feel like being defiant.

"I'll bring you something." He says more firmly, and I roll my eyes.

He's trying to assert his dominance so that he can command me to stop being angry with him. I hear him grumble, probably because of my eye rolling, but he turns and leaves the room, carrying Eli with him.

…

The rest of the afternoon and well past dinner is spent in a foul mood. I could hear Christian coming toward the bedroom, checking in on all three of the kids on his way past each bedroom. I didn't look up when he entered the room. I knew I was being stubborn, but I refused to give in to him. I have a right to know what's going on in our household.

"Working in bed again?" He asks, and I realize that the last time he came into the room, I was sitting in bed with my laptop as well.

"Mmm-hmm." I mumble uninterestedly.

"That's not good for your back." He says, and I assume it's because he's not sure what else to say.

He's not used to me being angry with him. You'd think what happened the last time he withheld information from me would have taught him a lesson, but I don't dare voice that. I know Christian, and I know even more that if I say something like that, even in anger, he'll think that I'm blaming him for Jack kidnapping me. I don't blame him at all. It was an unfortunate turn of events that just happened to occur after we had a fight about this exact issue.

"The chair at my desk isn't good for what's below my back." I mutter in return.

It's the truth. I'm sensitive from the post-birth stitches I needed, and my chair is really an unpleasant experience.

"We'll go get a new chair tomorrow morning." He says, and I want to smile because he's so sweet and considerate, but the angry side of me wants to yell at him for trying to control everything.

A new chair isn't going to fix our marital problems. He's still keeping things from me, and that still upsets me.

I watch, through the corner of my eye, as he undresses and pulls on a pair of black pajama pants and a t-shirt. He rarely wears a shirt to bed anymore, only when he's feeling vulnerable and uneasy, like now, when we've had a fight. He prefers us to sleep skin to skin; it makes him feel more connected to me, and because of his history with being unable to withstand touch, it makes me feel even more connected to him that he relishes in my touch.

He climbs into bed, his back facing me, and turns off the lamp on his bedside table. I sigh, rolling my eyes with the knowledge that he can't see me, and save the document I've been working on about Jack Hyde before closing my laptop.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you going to continue keeping secrets from me?" I ask quietly, afraid to raise my voice in the still darkness of our bedroom.

"You don't need to know everything, Anastasia." He says, equally quiet, though his voice is not soft; it's cold and brusque. "The only secrets I keep from you are for your own protection. You're just too damn stubborn to realize it."

"If I'm stubborn, what does that make you?" I snap, throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed as quickly as I can without straining any of my tender limbs or various other areas.

"Where are you going?" He snaps back, rolling over as I pick up my laptop and head toward the door.

"To the library. I wouldn't want to disturb you." I mutter, pausing with my hand on the door knob to see if he stops me, if he decides he'd like to explain what's going on.

He doesn't, so I leave quietly, closing the door behind me.

…

I've been sitting here for an hour, but my research hasn't turned up anything that I don't already know. Tapping my finger against my knee, thinking about what I should type into the search engine, I come up with the perfect idea.

I hesitate only a moment before trying the door to Christian's study. I jiggle it, but, as I suspected, it's locked. Road block.

I stand there for a long moment, contemplating picking the lock and sneaking into his office to rummage through his private papers, violating his privacy, but the moment quickly passes. I'm his wife. This is OUR house. He said so himself. I have every right to enter any room in this apartment that I damn well please. I don't ever need to pick the lock.

I walk across the room and pick up my purse, retrieving my keys from within it before walking back to Christian's study and using the key that opens every room in the apartment. I hear the lock click open, and it sounds like a canon going off to my ears. Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I turn the knob and let the door slowly swing open.

There's no going back now. I step into his office and walk behind his desk, eyeing the chair warily before deciding that standing is my best option as I lift up some folders, looking for the one that Welch brought over today.

I grin, proud of my super stealthing, when I locate it, and quickly open the folder, looking through the papers to find the photograph. There, under a list of Jack's finances, is a photograph of a family standing in front of a small house.

The adults are both dressed in dowdy, over washed blue T-shirts. They must be in their forties. The woman has scraped-back blond hair, and the man a severe buzz-cut, but they are both smiling warmly at the camera. The man has his hand draped over the shoulders of a sullen teenage girl. I gaze at each of the children: two boys—identical twins, about twelve—both with sandy blond hair, grinning broadly at the camera; there's another boy, who's smaller, with reddish blond hair, scowling; his face is circled, and hiding behind him, a copper-haired gray-eyed little boy. Wide-eyed and scared, dressed in mismatched clothes, and clutching a child's dirty blanket.

I stare at the small boy, my eyes drawn to him. I've seen that face before, those eyes, in Grace and Carrick's home. That boy is Christian.

A million thoughts run through my mind, too quickly for me to decipher, but I haven't got time to try. Jaisyn's cries startle me, and I drop the photo, slamming the folder shut and hurrying out of Christian's study, pulling the door shut behind me and dropping my keys on the table in the hall before hurrying to the nursery.

I don't know why I'm still rushing through the house, now that I'm no longer rummaging through my husband's study, but I don't want him to wake. I don't think I could face him right now, with the knowledge that I just went behind his back so fresh in my mind. He'd know, as soon as he laid eyes on me, he'd know I was up to something.

I reach into the bassinet and pick up my baby, cradling her close to my body as I reluctantly sit down on the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

…

Jaisyn is nearly asleep again, having spent the last forty minute nursing, when I hear something familiar. I jump at the sound, but soon realize that this was inevitable, considering our argument. I quickly settle Jaisyn back into her bassinet and hurry toward my bedroom and the sound of Christian's voice. He's not screaming yet, but I know it's not far away. His voice is loud and carrying down the hall as I approach the door and quickly swing it open.

"Christian!" I say, shaking him gently, trying to wake him from whatever nightmare is plaguing his slumber.

His entire body tenses before his eyes snap open, and he sits up straight in the bed, gasping and sweating as if he's just run a marathon.

"Ana." He murmurs, reaching for me, and pulling me into his arms. "I'm sorry. Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving." I murmur, stroking his hair.

"You weren't here." He replies, squeezing me tighter.

"I was feeding the baby." I reply, even though I haven't actually been to bed yet.

As his breathing calms, his grip on my body begins to loosen, and he looks earnestly into my eyes.

"I have to tell you something." He whispers, looking both fearful and apprehensive. "I kept something from you." He continues, and I want to roll my eyes at his stating the obvious, but I know he's making progress by telling me.

"Okay." I reply, nodding gently, eager for him to tell me his thoughts on the photograph that Welch recovered.

…


	14. Fifty's Family

A/N: Viewer Discretion is Advised in this part for themes of an, ahem, fifty shades nature.

It was brought to my attention that I wrote Chicago instead of Detroit. I fixed that. I constantly mix those two cities up. I don't know why.

**Chapter 14 – Fifty's Family:**

"I don't remember being in that photo, or being in that home, but I recognized myself immediately." He whispers. "Hyde was in the photo too."

"You were related?" I ask in a whispered tone as well, afraid that speaking up at all will spook him.

He shakes his and runs his hand through his unruly copper curls.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not sure." He mutters, his voice confused and pained. "I don't remember this, Ana, any of it."

"Maybe you should ask your parents?" I suggest, and he turns his head, staring into my eyes with such fear and anguish.

"What if we are related? Not by blood, but… circumstance. What if we're the same?" He asks, and I realize why he was afraid to show me the picture.

"You're nothing like Jack." I reassure him.

This is not the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last that I'll have to tell him this. Frankly, I'm willing to tell him as many times as it takes, so long as it eventually gets into his thick skull that he's good.

"You're a good man, and a wonderful husband, and the most amazing father that I have ever seen. Jack was a twisted, insane, sadist." I say, and his eyes widen with fear. "You are not, nor have you ever been, a sadist." I tell him as firmly as I can, knowing that he thought, and may still think, that he was.

"I love you." He murmurs. "I'm sorry that I kept this from you." He says, and I lean in closer to him, brushing my lips across his.

"You have to tell me these things, Christian. I want to help, and even if I can't fix the problem, we can work through it. I can be there for you. All the secrets do is tear us apart." I whisper, stroking his face. "I hate when we argue."

"Me too." He replies softly, closing his eyes as if he's carrying some incredibly heavy burden that he can't bear to hold. "Ana, don't leave me." He says, and I frown.

"I'm not going anywhere." I promise him for the millionth time, grasping his hand into both of mine.

"I told you once that I've always endeavored to be honest with you, to tell you the truth." He says, and I nod, smiling softly at him. "I vowed, before God and our closest friends and family to always be honest with you." He goes on, and I nod again, wondering where he's taking this.

"Have you been… dishonest with me?" I ask warily.

"Yes." He says, his tone nearly inaudible, but the guilt on his face screaming loudly.

"About what?" I ask, feeling a slight panic rising up my spine.

A million thoughts run through my mind as I wonder what he could have possibly been dishonest with me about. Has he been unfaithful? No, he'd never betray me like that.

"I didn't kill Hyde." He says, unable to meet my eyes.

"He's alive?" I ask, hearing the tremor in my voice.

His eyes shoot up to mine, wide and terrified.

"No. He's dead. I promise you, he is dead, and he will never hurt you again. Please, believe that." He says, his voice earnest and rushed, as if he's beseeching me to believe him despite this revelation that he's been less than truthful with me.

"Do you mean…" I start, my eyes widening at I realize what he's telling me. "Grace?" I ask, my heart wrenching for his mother.

He nods softly, seemingly unable to voice his answer.

"I had to. I needed to protect her. She couldn't have this plaguing her life. She's perfect and pure and warm. I'm already fifty shades. I had to keep her from being like me, so I lied, and I covered it up." He says, his voice shaking. "As soon as I saw her with that gun, I imagined the police cuffing her and dragging her off, taking her away from me."

Oh Fifty.

He adores Grace, that much is obvious, but I had no idea he had these issues, these fears of her leaving him as well. It makes complete sense that he'd be afraid of that.

"It was self defense. She was protecting you." I assure him, and he nods, though I'm not sure it has eased his concerns any. "Does anyone else know about this?" I ask him, and he nods again.

"Dad knows." He says, pausing for a moment, staring into my eyes. "And Danielle, but Mom assures me she wasn't in her right mind to have truly seen, or recall, anything." He adds quickly.

"Nobody else needs to know." I promise him, and he nods, tightening his grip around my body.

…

"Mom and Dad will be here shortly." Christian murmurs, as I join him and the children at the breakfast bar, Jaisyn in my arms.

"Good." I reply, touching his arm gently with my free hand. "How do you feel?" I ask.

"I'm not sure." He replies, and I nod.

"Hopefully, they'll have more information about all of this. Maybe they can shed some light on that photo." I assure him.

"Yes." He agrees simply, scooping some cheerios onto the small plastic spoon and lifting it into Eli's mouth.

It's not long before the elevator pings in the foyer and Reynolds announces the arrival of the Greys. I place Jaisyn in her bouncy chair, sending Christian off to talk with his parents while I tidy up and get the kids ready for the day.

After a quick greeting to the children, Grace, Carrick and Christian made their way into the study. They've been gone a long time, and I wonder what they're talking about. Grace and Carrick must know quite a bit about the people in the photo for them to be holed up in Christian's study all this time.

When they finally emerge, their faces are hard to read, and I feel anxious to have Christian all to myself, to hear what all of this means. After his nightmare and subsequent confessions last night, I don't see him keeping this from me, but you never know with that husband of mine.

I feel both guilty and grateful that Grace and Carrick can't stay long, and as soon as we seem them out and Ryan and Prescott head out with CJ to school, I turn my questioning eyes to Christian.

"Were they able to fill in any gaps?" I ask softly as we make our way to the sofa.

"Some. I lived with the Colliers for two months while Mom and Dad waited for the paperwork. They were already approved for adoption because of Elliot, but the social worker was looking to see if I had any living relatives who wanted to claim me."

"How do you feel about that?" I whisper.

He frowns. "About having no living relatives? Fuck that. If they were anything like the crack whore . . ." He shakes his head in disgust.

Oh, Christian! You were a child, and you loved your mom.

"It's coming back to me. I remember the food. Mrs. Collier could cook. And at least we know now why that fucker is so hung up on my family." He runs his free hand through his hair. "Fuck!" he says suddenly turning to gape at me.

"What?"

"It makes sense now!" His eyes are full of recognizance. "Baby Bird. Mrs. Collier used to call me Baby Bird." He says, and I feel my own eyes widen. "I loved that book. Mrs. Collier used to read it to me." He says, his voice full of wonder and disbelief. "That's why it was so familiar when I first read it to CJ, why I felt so emotional reading it."

This is news to me, but I try not to let the surprise register in my expression.

"That's how he knew." Christian says. "He wasn't in our home."

"Thank god." I mutter, looking over at our baby, sleeping soundly in her bassinet at the end of the sofa.

"Where's Eli?" He asks after a moment, and I smile.

"He's hiding from us." I murmur softly so that our son doesn't know that we know he's crouching behind the breakfast bar.

"Ooh." Christian mouths as me, rising from the sofa and pointing to the kitchen with questioning eyes.

I nod, and grin as my husband moves slowly and silently around to the edge of the bar.

"Hey!" Christian says excitedly, swooping down and scooping our squealing and giggling little boy up into his arms.

I never cease to be thankful that Eli is living here, with us, instead of the hell he was enduring before us. He's so sweet and precious, and I can't even imagine him being anywhere but in our home, surrounded by love and people who want him to have the world at his fingertips.

When we first met him and learned about his life, I honestly thought we'd have a mini Fifty on our hands, but we don't. Eli is one of the happiest boys I've ever seen. It's like he's been with us his entire life, the way he so easily and so perfectly fits into our family, into our lives.

Eli will never be that dirty, angry, scared little boy, hiding in a photo with people he doesn't know.

"Shhhhhh! Bebe sleeeeeepy." Eli says, pointing his finger at Christian.

"Oh, I am so sorry." Christian replies, looking positively contrite.

"You make a mommy beeeerrry hungry." Eli says, and I smile at how far his speech has come.

"It makes mommy hungry when the baby wakes up?" Christian asks our son, glancing at me with questioning eyes. "Do you mean the baby is hungry when she wakes up?" He asks.

"No. Mommy be hungry we yell wake up beebee." He says, glaring at us as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "She make a GRRRRRRRRRRRR" He says, and it suddenly dawns on me.

"Mommy gets _angry_ when we wake up the baby." I correct him, and he nods vigorously.

He's right. I would be angry if they woke up the baby, but something about the sound of my boys laughing is worth having to put a fussy infant back to sleep.

…

"So, Jack lived with you in Detroit?" I ask as I climb into bed next to Christian and curl into his side.

"Apparently, but that's all that Welch came up with. It makes sense though, now that I think about it." He says softly, wrapping his arm around my body.

"Do you think that's why he wanted to get back at you?" I ask, gazing up at his face. "Is that what Danielle meant when she said that you took everything from Jack? Did he want the Grey's to take him instead of you?" I ask, allowing all of my questions to fall out of my mouth at once.

He shakes his head though, his eyes unsure.

"I really don't know, but it seems like that's the most logical explanation." He says softly. "I'm sorry that you were pulled into all of this shit." He murmurs, kissing my hair softly.

"It's not your fault, Christian." I assure him, tilting my face up and meeting his lips.

"Don't tease me, woman." He murmurs against my lips. I don't listen as I nip at his lower lip with my teeth, eliciting a guttural groan from him. "This isn't fair." He mumbles, moving his lips to the side of my neck as his hands meander under my night gown to my backside.

"I know." I whisper my agreement. "No everything is off limits you know." I inform him through my rapidly increasing breaths.

"I just want to be inside you." He murmurs earnestly.

Our amazing sex life aside, this is how Christian copes, how he feels connected to me, feels grounded, and we can't make love for the next six weeks.

"You can be." I whisper, pressing gently on his shoulder until he lays flat on his back.

I silently gaze at his bemused eyes as I move over him, kneeling astride his legs and crawling backward toward his feet. Our eyes are locked as I hook my index fingers into the waistband of his sleep pants and gently tug. He lifts his hips slightly off the bed, facilitating the maneuver and allowing his erection to spring free. I release his pants, letting them sit around his thighs, and take him in my hand. We continue to gaze at each other as I stroke him several times. I finally break our intense eye contact when I lean down. I hear him sigh loudly, as if some great relief has overcome his entire body by having my mouth around him, and his fingers thread into my hair, gently guiding my head at a tempo he likes.

"Why did you do that?" Christian asks as we lie on our sides, my back to his chest and his cheek resting on my hair.

"Because I love you, and I know that when you're feeling like this, the only way to prove that I'm still here, the only way to bring you back from whatever hell your mind has taken you to, is to be buried inside me, to be one with me." I whisper back, stroking his hand where it's splayed on my stomach.

"You never cease to amaze me, Anastasia." He whispers against my hair, and I can't help but smile.

I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do for my Fifty Shades.

"Christian." I murmur softly breaking the long stretch of companionable silence.

"Yes?" He replies just as softly.

"I snooped through your office after our fight and found the photo. I didn't know what it meant and then the baby woke up, and you had your nightmare. I just thought you should know." I confess quietly, wondering if it will break the perfect spell we're under right now.

"You shouldn't have snooped through my things." He says, and I wonder how angry he is because his voice holds no emotion. "But you also shouldn't have had to. I should have been honest with you."

I release a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding and turn in his embrace, facing him and meeting his gaze. I cup his cheek and brush my lips against his.

"Go to sleep, Mrs. Grey." He scolds, narrowing his eyes, but I see his lips twitching with hints of the smile he's fighting.

…

"Will you please close that file already?" I ask, standing in the doorway of Christian's study.

He's brooding over Jack's information, though the only new piece of information in that file was the photo, and now that's been solved. It's been over a week since he spoke with Grace and Carrick about his time in the foster home. I don't understand why he's still obsessing so much about this. I just want to put this whole ordeal behind us and move forward. If it was about him, I'd understand, but he's obsessing over Jack Hyde.

"Taylor will be home soon." I remind him. "How do you think he'll feel seeing everyone out there, waiting to greet him, and not see you there?"

He smiles at me, closing the file and rising from his chair. He takes three very purposeful strides toward me and pulls me into his arms, planting a firm kiss on my lips.

"You're right." He says with a firm nod, and I lean back, staring skeptically into his grey eyes. "This is over. We can move on with our lives."

He leans toward my lips again, this time much slower, but the elevator doors ping from the foyer, and he sighs, pulling away again.

"Mustn't doddle, Mrs. Grey. Taylor will want to see your lovely face when he walks through the door." Christian says, swatting my behind as he ushers me quickly into the great room where our parents, Mia, Kate, Elliott, our children, and Sophie, along with the rest of our security staff, are waiting with balloons and cards.

We stand near the back of the group as Gail and Taylor enter the room.

"Daddy!" Sophie yells, running toward him.

"Gently." Taylor says as she wraps her arms around his waist.

"Welcome home!" I say, moving to the front of the group and leaning in to kiss Taylor's cheek.

He smiles at me, and I think I see him blush a little when Christian clears his throat. He never was comfortable with me being so close to the staff. He'll just have to cope with it.

"Good to have you back, Taylor." Christian says, shaking his hand.

"Good to be back, Sir." Taylor replies, maintaining the business front of their closet bromance in front of everyone else, but I know different.

…

After serving and enjoying a small welcome home cake that Gail and the kid's made earlier today, we clear the apartment, so that Taylor can retire to his quarters to rest. It was becoming very evident that he was tired and needed to excuse himself.

"Everything is falling back into place." I say, sitting down on the sofa next to Christian with Jaisyn in my arms.

He's looking at a picture book with Eli, who was sent running from CJ's bedroom when she and Sophie offered to give him a makeover.

"It seems that way." He agrees casually, turning the page.

"My want beebee." Eli says, dropping the book and crawling over Christian to sit between us.

"You want to hold your sister?" I ask, smiling at him as he scoots as far back into the sofa cushions as he can and extends his arms.

"Yes. My beebee scissors." He replies proudly as I carefully put Jaisyn into his arms, supporting her with my own arms as well.

"What a great big brother." Christian says, ruffling Eli's hair. "It must be an Elliott Grey trait." He murmurs, more to himself.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" I ask, watching Eli's face scrunch up as he contemplates something.

"We get… we get boy next?" He asks, his blue eyes wide with question as he looks from Christian to me and back again.

"No, buddy. This is it for us. No more babies." Christian tells him.

"I like beebee." He says, grinning down at his little sister's sleeping face. "He be nice."

"Yes, she's very nice." I reply softly, grinning down at my son.

…

I grumble, nudging Christian as a sound tries to pull me from my deep slumber.

"Your turn." I mumble at him.

"It's your phone." He mumbles back, cuddling in closer to me from behind.

"Who the hell is calling me at—" I pause, reaching for my blackberry and glancing into the blinding red digits of the alarm clock. "—three in the morning?"

I look at the screen and see Kate's caller ID image staring back at me.

"Kate?" I ask sleepily.

"Ana, it's Elliott. We're on our way to the hospital. Kate's in labour." He says, and I sit straight up.

"On my way." I reply, now wide awake before hanging up my phone and climbing out of bed.

"What's up?" Christian asks, rubbing his eyes.

"Kate's in labour." I reply pulling on a pair of sweat pants.

"Of course she is. Leave it to Kate to give birth in the middle of the night. She couldn't have chosen a more convenient time, like late afternoon, after a nice lunch?" He mutters petulantly, though he gets up anyways, pulling on his grey cotton pants and a white linen button down.

"I'll get Sawyer to bring the car to the front lobby." Christian whispers as we make our way out of the bedroom.

"Is it wake up time yet?"

We both freeze, hearing CJ's voice through a long yawn, and turn around to face her.

"No, princess. Go back to your bed." Christian says, walking toward her.

"Where you going?" She asks, reaching her arms up toward him, wanting him to pick her up.

He does, and she rests her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Auntie Kate is having the babies now. Mommy is going to hold her hand." Christian says.

"I want to see the new babies." CJ whines through another yawn.

"You'll see them soon, maybe tomorrow afternoon." He promises, and I smile. "Let's get you back into bed, so I can walk mommy out, all right?" He asks.

"I wanna sleep in the big bed." She murmurs, burying her face deeper into her father's neck.

"Okay. Go jump into the big bed. I'll be right back." He tells her, kissing her head before placing her on her feet and watching her stammer into our bedroom.

…

"Have you guys thought about boy names?" I ask Kate, cradling the oldest twin, by three minutes, in my arms.

Now that it's a more decent hour of the morning, Elliott is in the hall making phone calls to everyone else, save Grace, who was on duty when they came in.

"Not really. The sonograms weren't clear, but the tech was so sure we were having two girls." She replies softly, stroking her index finger over the soft, plump cheek of the baby in her arms.

"When I texted Ethan to let him know you were in labour, he suggested Ghandi." I tease, and she laughs.

"He would."

"Which name are you going to use for my perfect little niece?" I ask, knowing that they chose Ava and Vanaugh as their two girl names because they were pieces of Kate's last name.

"Elliott was never very fond of Vanaugh." She admits.

"Ava it is?" I ask, grinning at her.

"Yea, I think so. He really loved that name." She says, grinning at her baby girl in my arms. "But this poor guy doesn't have a name." She adds, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"You know, the name Kavanaugh is actually used as a first name for boys in Gaelic circles." I point out, using my extensive knowledge of ancient Irish literature to our advantage.

"Really?" She asks. "Kavanaugh Grey." She says out loud, trying the name on for size.

"I like it." Elliott's voice catches our attention from the doorway.

"Me too." Kate says, grinning at her husband. "Ava and Kavanaugh Grey."

…

A/N: After doing some research, I decided on the names for the twins. I actually considered using Kavanaugh as the girl's name, but the other boy name I came up with was Vaughn, and I wasn't sure I liked two subsequent single syllable names, ie: Vaughn Grey.

Maybe I'm just insane or neurotic?

You be the judge!


	15. The Bigger Picture

A/N: Some of you were wondering what happened with Ana and the money from the Georgia account. I thought I implied it pretty well, but maybe I could have been clearer. Ana basically bought a donor. Naughty Ana =O

Only one chapter left after this! Just in time, too! I have my orientation tomorrow morning and first day full of classes on Wednesday! I'll try to have the final chapter posted by tomorrow night, but I'm still ironing out some kinks! Get it? ;) lol

**Chapter 15 – The Bigger Picture:**

***** THREE MONTHS LATER *****

"See that?" I ask, pointing to the large pink sandstone house in the distance.

CJ and Eli nod up at me, standing on their tip toes to see over the edge of The Grace.

"That's our new house." I tell them as Ana brings the baby out of the cabin, gently adjusting her sunhat over the straight, brown locks.

Just like Ana.

"When are we going to move into the big house?" CJ asks.

"Not for another four or five months." I explain, stroking a rogue curl away from her face. "Uncle Elliott says the renovations are coming along nicely."

"I wish we could live on the boat." CJ says wistfully. "It's perfect"

"Yes, it is." I agree. "But it's time to head back. It's getting late, and we all have big days tomorrow." I tell her, signaling to Mack at the wheel to turn it around.

"This is just like heaven." She murmurs, hugging my leg.

…

* * *

"Are you boys heading out?" I ask, watching as Christian helps Eli into a pair of rubber waders.

"We making fish!" Eli exclaims, jumping up and down.

"Yes, we're going fishing." Christian agrees, smiling at our son's excitement.

"Just boys!" Eli squeals again.

"Just boys." Christian agrees, grinning up at me. "Let's get your jacket on." He adds.

"Have fun!" I tell them, walking my boys to the door just as Taylor joins them, geared up in his own rubber boots.

"Stay with Sawyer." Christian says, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

"We will. CJ's spending the day with your parents, and I'm going to meet Kate and the twins at Caffé Vita on Fifth Avenue for lunch." I explain.

"Good. That's not far from here." He says, nodding his head.

…

I take a table in the shaded section of the patio and sit down, pulling Jaisyn's stroller in close to the table and handing her a plastic ring of keys.

I smile up at Sawyer, sitting across the café, and he nods back, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. I get it. He has to play tough guy in public.

Kate is running late. I get it. I know exactly how hard it is to have to get multiple children ready for the day all at once. At least her twins aren't old enough to rip their diapers off and streak through the apartment stark naked… like Eli has taken to doing.

"Ana?" I turn my head, hearing the sound of a familiar voice calling my name.

"Danielle." I reply, smiling warmly.

I'd heard she was released from the hospital recently, but I hadn't heard where she was staying. I really wanted to check in on her, bring her a welcome home basket or something. I know she wasn't herself in that basement, and I just feel like going through that has given us a bond. We survived together. I want to know that she's okay after everything.

"You look amazing." She says, smiling back and then glancing down at the baby. "She's so big." She adds softly.

"Three months." I reply, though my first instinct is to make her keep a distance from Jaisyn.

"She looks just like you." She says, and I nod. "Absolutely perfect."

"Thank you. We're quite pleased with her." I say, smiling down at my baby.

"May I?" She asks, gesturing to the empty chair at my small table.

I hesitate for a moment before nodding softly and watching her take a seat.

"I've been wondering how you were." I say softly, looking up into her eyes. "I know you were in the hospital for a long time."

"Yes. I've been out for a week now." She replies, nodding gently. "I'm good now. It took a long time for me to get over what you did." She says, and I begin to nod in agreement before her words to fully settle into my mind.

"What I did?" I ask, wondering if she's confused.

"Yes. What you did to me, to my life. It's been difficult." She says, as if there's nothing strange about her words at all.

"I think you mean what Jack did." I correct her softly, but she raises a brow at me and shakes her head.

"I mean what I said, Ana. You ruined everything." She says, and I glance around, trying to make eye contact with Sawyer, but I don't see him. "I loved Mr. Grey. He was kind to me and gentle even when he was trying to be rough, and when you were in that coma, and I was there, helping him with that little girl, it was the most amazing thing I've ever felt. It was like we were a family." She says, and I feel myself pale.

I pull Jaisyn's stroller closer to me as discreetly as possible, and glance around again in search of Sawyer.

"You have no idea what it was like, how it felt to have to live up to some standards of a ghost, of a memory. Ana wore hooded sweatshirts, not zippered ones. Ana wore converse sneakers. Ana used this shampoo. Ana tied her hair up like this. Ana, Ana, Ana! Do you know what that feels like? To not be enough as yourself? To have to pretend to be someone else just so the man that you love will look at you with some semblance of affection?" She continues.

"Danielle, I'm sorry you felt that way, but –"

She cuts me off, raising her hand as if to say that she isn't finished.

"And then I found Jack. I had no idea he even existed until I found some old photographs in my mother's things. She died just after Mr. Grey dumped me." She explains, and I swallow hard. "Overdose." She goes on.

I sit and listen, because I'm curious now. She knew Jack, or at least her mother did. Was he her father or something? The thought causes bile to rise in my throat.

"My mother was really young in the photo, and on the back was written 'Mommy and Jack'." She says, and I try to control my facial expressions. "I had an older brother. Somewhere, out in the world, I had a brother. I did some digging, and as it turns out, my mother had a ton of information on the homes that Jack lived in. Apparently, she'd been stalking him, hoping to steal him back and take off, but I guess that never happened."

"He's your brother?" I ask, because she's staring at me with expectant eyes, and I'm not sure what she wants from me now.

"No. He WAS my brother." She emphasizes. "When my mother died, I was granted custody of my younger siblings. Jack and I were going to take them and leave town, start fresh, but he had some unfinished business, and as it turned out, we had a mutual hate for a certain billionaire and his wife." She explains, and I realize the entire thing was just some disgusting master scheme. "Jack wanted to hit Grey where it hurt, and I wanted just a little piece of the man that I love. The plan had been to take your daughter, but when we found out you were pregnant, well…" She shrugs. "Who can turn down a newborn baby? They're much harder to track down than little girls with distinctive features."

"You were never his prisoner, were you?" I ask, needing her to say it, to confirm it to me.

"No." She laughs, shaking her head at me. "But we needed it to look real in case you somehow made it out alive. In fact, in our relationship, I was the one who called the shots. I gave him instructions for scenes, we even recorded them. If anyone ever found out, I'd be in the clear. For the record though, we didn't intend on letting you make it out at all." She says, her cold eyes boring into mine. "We stalked you for a while, got to know your routine, and then we set up that 'accidental run in' on the street that day."

"You're sick." I spit at her, glancing around again in search of Sawyer.

Where the hell is he?

"No, the sick part is that not only did Grey take everything my brother ever wanted from him, but you went and took everything I ever wanted from me. My family is gone! They're in foster care somewhere, and I can't even see them." She says, her eyes welling up with tears.

I almost feel for her. Almost. Not quite.

"You kidnapped me!" I snap back.

"Oh get over it." She says casually, waving a dismissive hand at me. "You killed my brother. I think we're even, well, actually, I do have one last favour to ask."

She smiles at me, and I feel a cold chill run down my spine. Something catches my eye, and I look down at her hands in her lap, only they aren't in her lap anymore. Just below the surface of the table, Danielle is pointing a gun at me.

I take a deep breath, wishing I could alert someone, wishing someone would look over and see this. I glance at Jaisyn and then back to Danielle's face.

"Exactly, Ana. You know what I want. I'm going to walk around the table and pick up the baby. If you move from that seat, I will shoot you. If you scream, I will shoot you. If you touch that fancy blackberry sitting on the table, I will shoot you. Do you understand?" She asks, and I stare at her. "Do you understand?" She asks again, very slowly as if I'm a child.

"Don't touch my baby." I say, feeling bold. She can shoot me if she likes, but as soon as she does, every person on the street and the patio of this café is going to look this way.

Surely, Sawyer is watching, coming up with some form of action to take, which will end in the safety of Jaisyn and I.

"You've taken everything from me, Ana. I will not hesitate to kill you in the street." She mutters, rising from her seat and making her way around the table toward Jaisyn's stroller.

In one swift motion, I push my chair backward and the table forward, knocking them both over with a loud clatter, and lift Jaisyn up, hugging her close to my chest as I turn around, running toward the exit.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." I hear Sawyer say from behind me.

I stop and turn around to see Danielle, standing with her arm out, gun poised in my direction, and Sawyer, Ryan, Reynolds, and Taylor, surrounding her, their own guns pointed at her.

"Ana?" Christian's voice comes from in front of me, and I feel myself physically relax. "Are you guys okay?" He asks, and I realize that when I couldn't locate Sawyer, it was because he was trying to be undetectable in the crowd while he brought in back up.

"Yea. We're fine." I assure him, stepping into his embrace gently, so we don't squish the baby. "Jack was her brother." I blurt out because I still can't believe it myself.

He doesn't reply, I guess because he's not sure what to say about it in this tense moment. Instead, he kisses my hair, and leans back to stroke Jaisyn's hair.

"The police are on the way. We should probably stick around and give a statement, but I've got Eli in the car." He says, glancing over his shoulder at the black Audi SUV a few feet away.

I nod, content with him arranging for someone to come to the house to collect my statement.

"I need to call Kate." I murmur, kissing Jaisyn's head.

"I already did. She's parked around the corner. I had Prescott stay with her and the twins." He assures me, and I nod.

"Come on." He says, walking me to the car as several police cruisers pull up, lights flashing red and blue in my eyes.

…

"I'm sorry you didn't get to have your boys' day." I murmur softly to Christian, reaching my hand toward him over all three of our sleeping children lying between us on our bed.

Well, technically only the older two are between us. Jaisyn is sleeping on Christian's chest. He hasn't let her go since we got home from the café. Even while he was speaking to his very favourite detective, Clark, he held her.

"There will be other trips." He replies back, just as softly. "Your safety is far more important that fishing."

"I know, but you guys were really looking forward to it." I say, remembering how crushed Eli was when we told him we were going back home instead of to the lake.

"Maybe we can take them to the lake for a picnic or something and do some fishing tomorrow." Christian suggests, and I nod, though I'm not sure how up to going out I'll be tomorrow.

Frankly, I'm content to stay inside with my family and lock all of the doors and windows, but I know this knee jerk reaction isn't exactly the healthiest.

"Maybe." I reply through a yawn, rolling onto my side next to CJ. "Maybe we should go bed shopping instead." I suggest, feeling the small space of mattress between my back and the edge of the bed.

Christian laughs and grins at me, stroking his hand up and down Jaisyn's back.

"Maybe we should get a California King for the new place." He says, glancing down at CJ and Eli.

"I can hardly wait to be living there, Christian. It's just so…" I pause, smiling at my family for a long moment. "It's perfect." I finally say, watching as Christian nods in response.

…


	16. Brick Walls

A/N: I should really just stop trying to estimate the end of the story. I thought this would be the last chapter, and I'd have tons of time to wrap up the loose ends and finish off the last few scenes, but as always, the scenes get away from me and end up much longer than the allotted space I thought they'd get. There will be more after this chapter. I'm not sure how many, but not tooooo many.

Several of you have been asking about any future stories, and I've done my best to answer some of your questions, but it's actually a pain in the butt to do it from my phone. I don't have plans for any long stories yet, but I do have some one shot type ideas that I want to write that are sort of companion stories to this little series. Do two stories count as a series? I'm not sure. Anyways, I love that so many of you are enjoying my work, and I thank you so much for all of your kind words and your support throughout these stories.

I would LOVE to keep in touch with all of you. You've all been just wonderful, so please feel free to inbox me or send me your email! And I'd also like to thank you guys for your good wishes about me starting college. My orientation went really well. I actually knew some people in my program from high school, so it was a pleasant surprise to not be alone and adrift in the masses!

**Chapter 16 – Brick Walls: **

"Good morning." I say, joining Christian and the children at the breakfast bar.

"Morning." Christian says, leaning over to kiss my cheek while he feeds Jaisyn her bottle, the multitasking daddy that he is.

"Mommy, guess what!" CJ exclaims, breaking into our quiet exchange.

"What?" I reply back with just as much fervor.

"Alex invited me to his birthday party!" She says, her grin undeniably large.

"Oh, that's exciting!" I reply, but Christian looks less than enthusiastic.

"Where is this party? Who else will be there?" He asks, looking to me for the answers that I don't have.

"Did he give you an invitation?" I ask.

"Yup!" She replies. "It's in my packpack! I'll go get it!" She shouts, squirming down her chair until she's low enough to hop off of the stool.

She returns a moment later with a small white envelope and hands it to Christian. He opens it and stares at the bright cartoon image on the front of the card.

"This is a bit tacky, don't you think?" He mutters, and I can't help but smile.

"It's a child's birthday party, not a masquerade ball." I remind him. "Six year olds don't really like the black with silver embossed style invite."

"I see." He says absently, opening the card. "You're invited to Alex Jacobs' Seventh Birthday Extravaganza." He reads, his tone casual, as if he were reading the sports section of the newspaper. "Next Saturday. 2pm." He mutters, more to himself than anyone else, as he reads over the details. "Adventure Land Indoor Playground. That place is a death trap!" He says, and I watch as CJ's excited expression drops.

"No it's not!" She exclaims, staring up into her father's eyes with a pleading pair of her own.

"Yes, it really is." He says, nodding at her. "You'll have to tell your friend you can't make it." He says, glancing back down at the card. "Oh, actually, there is a phone number for RSVP. I'll give them a call after breakfast and let them know you'll be unable to attend."

"Christian." I murmur, glaring at him.

"That's not fair!" CJ screams, stomping her foot on the floor as tears well up in her eyes.

"Life is very unfair. I bet the child who fell and broke his arm last year didn't think it was fair either." He says casually, popping a grape into his mouth.

"I'm going!" CJ shouts, glaring at her father and stomping her foot on the floor.

"CJ…" I warn, wishing they'd both drop it so that I can do damage control and reason with Christian in private.

"No you are most certainly not." Christian says, staring down into her angry eyes.

"You can't tell me what to do!" She shouts.

"CJ, finish your breakfast." I say in my sternest tone, but it falls on deaf ears.

"Oh, yes I can." Christian replies, standing up from his seat. "Right now, I'm telling you that you aren't going to this party, to eat your breakfast, and then I'll tell you to get dressed for school, and I can do this because I am your father." He says, daring her to challenge him.

"ONLY FOR THE LAST FIVE MINUTES!" CJ shouts, storming toward her bedroom.

I watch Christian's jaw drop, his eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head as he stands, frozen, staring at the space that our daughter once occupied.

"Christian Katherine Grey!" I say, following CJ toward the doorway of the great room. I have no idea where she heard something like that, but I'm not going to accept it.

She freezes in her tracks and turns around, glaring angrily at me.

"He's too bossy! He never lets us do ANYTHING!" She shouts at me, but I'm unfazed by it. "Before he camed along, we did whatever we want! Now, I can't even have any friends!" She shouts, and I realize that she's not completely wrong.

"You don't get to talk to your father that way. Go to your room and get dressed for school." I say, my voice eerily calm because frankly, I don't know what to do in this situation.

"She hates me." Christian mutters from where he's still standing by the breakfast bar.

I turn around and stare into his pained eyes, shaking my head.

"She doesn't hate you." I tell him, walking back toward him.

"She does, and she's right. I came into her life and started controlling everything. I took her away from her home, away from her friends… I locked her up in a tower. I thought I was protecting her from the world, hiding her away from all of the dangers, but now, now she hates me for it." He says, staring wide-eyed into my face.

"Christian, she adores you. She's just being defiant. She needs to learn that she can't always get her own way, and you need to be more open to discussion." I tell him, but he won't listen.

He steps toward me, carefully placing Jaisyn into my arms, and stalks toward his office, slamming the door behind him.

…

"Is she still mad at me?" Christian asks as I come out of CJ's bedroom, having just tucked her in for the night.

I bite my lip, not wanting to tell him that she is, in fact, still completely furious.

"She's five, Christian. She'll get over it. I think you need to reconsider the birthday party, though." I tell him, knowing this is going to be a battle of wills.

"Ana, I said no. I already called the boy's parents and declined. My decision is final." He says, turning around and walking toward the bedroom.

"Christian!" I call after him, jogging to catch up with his long strides and following him into the bedroom.

"Anastasia…" He says, his voice a warning.

"It's a child's birthday party. All of her friends from school will be there, and we will stay and supervise her. It's not like his party is on a remote island. It's around the corner." I tell him, but he's not listening, or at least, he's pretending not to; I know for a fact that he hears me.

"I'm going to take a shower." He says, changing the subject. "Join me?" He asks, winking at me as if our entire discussion never happened.

"No, but I'll wait here until you're done, so we can discuss this some more." I tell him, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"There is nothing left to discuss. I said 'no', therefore, the answer is no." He says, swiping his hands through the air in some gesture of finality.

"I'm going to talk to Alex's mother tomorrow and find out if our daughter is still welcome to attend her friend's birthday party. If you would like to join us, please let me know by then, so I can inform her of your attendance as well." I say, getting off of the bed and stalking out of the bedroom.

I can hear him say my name, but he doesn't follow me after I close the door. I'll leave him to stew on that. If he can make knee-jerk decisions about our children's lives without any room for discussion, then so can I.

I head into the tv room, intent on numbing my brain for a while, and plop onto the sofa. I can't believe how stubborn Christian can be, actually, both of them are extremely stubborn. I sigh, digging out my blackberry and dialing a familiar number.

"Hi, it's Ana. Can you talk?" I ask, when the very voice I need to hear answers.

"Of course. What's up?" He asks, and I sigh, trying to hold it all in. "Ana?" He asks, and I know that he's fully aware of the emotional turmoil I'm going through. He'd have to with all of the calls he receives from me.

"Christian and I are fighting. He won't let CJ go to this birthday party and she… she completely lost it on him." I say, choking back a sob. "He thinks she hates him, but he won't budge, and she won't talk to either of us because she thinks I'm on his side. I just want us to go back to normal, back to the happy family we were before all of the stuff with Jack and Danielle."

"Were Christian's reasons for not allowing CJ to attend the party unwarranted?" He asks, and I wipe my moist eyes on my sleeve.

"Completely. He's just been so over protective of us since Jack, and now with the Danielle thing fresh in his mind, he's gone into some crazy overdrive." I explain, knowing that he already knows this.

"Have you spoken to him about how you feel yet?" He asks, and I know I'm in trouble as soon as I answer.

"No. I don't want him thinking—I don't want him knowing this has affected me this way. I don't want him thinking that he can't leave me alone for five minutes without me feeling like something horrible is going to happen." I confess. "I just want our life back, and the only way I know how to get it is to pretend that we're fine and move on."

"But you aren't fine, are you?" He asks, and I take a deep breath, trying to prevent a sob from escaping. "Ana, you won't feel better about this until you talk to Christian. You know that. You both pride yourselves on how honest and open your relationship is, how you can safely tell each other everything. Why haven't you told him how you're feeling?"

"He'll blame himself." I explain.

"Do you blame him?" He asks.

"No!" I snap immediately, and it's the truth. I don't blame Christian for any of this; I just know my husband and how his complicated brain makes irrational connections.

"Then you need to talk to him. You can't pretend that you're okay if you're not. You know how you feel about what happened, but have you asked Christian how he feels? You might find that you're feeling the same way. Maybe you can work through these fears together." He says, and I nod, more to myself.

"Thanks again. You're always there when I need you." I tell him before we say goodbye, and hang up.

"Who was that?" Christian asks from the doorway.

I didn't hear him approach, and I wonder how much of my conversation he heard.

"Just a friend." I answer vaguely. "Are you here to talk about CJ going to that party?" I ask, changing the subject to a hot topic that will surely distract him.

"She won't be going, Ana. There is nothing to discuss. I don't trust those places. Kids go missing from there all the time, or they're injured on the equipment. It's not safe. End of discussion." He says, glaring at me as if he thinks he can burn his opinion into my brain, branding me with his views.

"She is going, and you can't stop me from taking her." I reply, glaring back.

It's going to be a long week.

…

"Ana Grey." I answer my phone in my office/the library.

"Ana, it's Jennifer Jacobs, Alex's mom." The voice replies.

"Oh, hello, Jennifer. How are you?" I ask, quickly saving the document I'm working on.

"Not so great, actually." She replies. "I know it's last minute, considering that Alex's party is tomorrow afternoon, but we have to cancel. I'm hoping to rebook somewhere else for next weekend." She explains.

"Oh, no! What happened? Is Alex all right?" I ask, concerned.

"He's fine. It's actually the playground. Apparently, they've been shut down by some health and safety board for not having the appropriate regulations met. I'm not sure on the details, but they're closed indefinitely." She says, and I narrow my eyes at the photo on my desk of my beautifully wicked husband.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jennifer. I know CJ was looking forward to celebrating with Alex." I say, feeling absolutely terrible about what I'm almost positive has happened. "Perhaps we can get together for a playdate tomorrow, so CJ can give Alex his present and wish him a happy birthday anyways." I suggest.

"Oh, I'm sure he'd just love that." She agrees.

"Great, why don't you drop him off here tomorrow afternoon, say 2:00?" I ask.

She agrees, eagerly taking down our address before we hang up. I rise from my seat slowly, trying to give myself ample time to calm down before confronting Christian about this, however, when I turn around, he's standing in the doorway. How the hell does he keep sneaking up on me?

"That was Alex's mother." I tell him, and he nods as if he's interested. "She was calling to cancel Alex's birthday party. Apparently, the indoor playground has been shut down due to some kind of safety violation." I tell him, my voice oozing with sarcasm.

"I told you those places were deathtraps. You didn't believe me." He replies, both his voice and his expression smug and condescending.

"You wouldn't happen to know how that happened so conveniently close to when our daughter was supposed to go there, do you?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Of course I do. I hired a private investigator to case the place and then I sent all the proof of their haphazardness to the health and safety board to review. They obviously agreed with me." He says as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

"Christian, I really hope you're satisfied. You ruined a little boy's birthday because you wanted to be right." I say, pushing past him and heading toward CJ's room to break the news to her.

Hopefully, she'll be happy about Alex coming over to play here.

…

* * *

"Did you get that information for me?" I ask Welch through the phone.

"Yes sir." He replies. "I just sent it to you."

"Good." I reply, hanging up and opening the email that just popped up on my laptop screen.

I stare at the number for a long time and all of the extended phone calls that Ana has made to it before I open the other attachment containing the name and address of this person. As the information stares back at me, I'm shocked.

I quickly pick up my phone and keys and storm out of the house, intent on confronting Ana's little friend face to face.

The drive over to his house is a blur, and I'm suddenly walking up to his door and pounding on it. He answers after only a short moments, and I glare at his face.

"Are you screwing my wife, John?" I ask, letting him see how furious I am, but he doesn't look fearful, in fact, he's grinning at me.

"Do you really think that little of me, Christian? That little of Ana?" He asks, and I begin to feel somewhat stupid for barging over here like this, without facts. I always have all the answers long before I ask any questions.

"Why has she been calling you several times a day on your personal line?" I challenge.

"That's something that you and Ana need to discuss." He says, going all shrink on me.

"Flynn, is something wrong with Ana?" I ask, feeling concern bubble up over my anger.

"Talk to you wife, Christian." He says, his words slow and concise.

"Is everything all right?" I hear Rhian ask from behind the door.

"It's fine, honey. It's Christian." He replies, I nod at her as she peeks around Flynn to say hello. "Talk to Ana." He says firmly to me, as I stare at him, begging him to tell me what the hell is going on.

…

"Ana?" I call, walking back into the apartment, feeling like a complete, what does she call me? An arse. I feel like a complete arse.

It's much cuter when she says it. No, right now, I'm being a fucking asshole. How could I have ever thought, even for a second, that Ana was having an affair, let alone with our psychiatrist? She is, however, obviously keeping something from me, something that she feels the need to spill her guts about to Flynn on a daily basis, sometimes two or three times a day. How could I miss this?

"Anastasia!" I call again, walking down the hall toward our bedroom.

"Shh!" she says as she comes out of the nursery.

"Sorry." I reply instinctively. I know how hard it can be to put Jaisyn back to sleep when she's been woken up from her nap.

"What's wrong?" She asks, pulling the door closed and walking toward the living room.

"I think we need to talk about something." I tell her, wondering how I should broach the subject of me looking into her phone records.

Not that I think there's a problem with that. She kept this from me; I had every right to find out who she was talking to, just like she had every right to snoop through my office. I'm just not sure she'll see it in the same perspective.

"About what?" She asks casually.

"Are you screwing Flynn?" I ask, knowing the answer will be 'no', but shooting for the shock factor. Maybe it will entice her to be completely honest with me in an attempt to banish these 'suspicions'.

A split second later, I touch my stinging cheek tentatively, following the sound of skin smacking against skin, and I stare, slack-jacked and, frankly, turned on, in the wake of Ana slapping me across the face. I never expected that reaction, not in a million years. I'm not completely opposed to it, though. If I'm being completely honest with myself, it was kind of hot, pushing the threshold of the defiance I find so attractive in her.

"I'm sorry." She says after a moment, and she looks just as shocked as I am that she did it.

"It's fine." I whisper, processing these feelings slowly as I try to simultaneously process the slap. "I didn't actually think you were sleeping with John." I confess.

"Why would you say something like that?" She asks, her wide blue eyes changing from shock to pain.

"I don't know." I reply honestly. Why did I say it? I already know it's not true. "You are calling him a lot, though." I add.

"He's our friend and our marriage councilor." She says adamantly, and I'm glad she skipped over the question of how I know she's been calling him so much.

"Our marriage is fine, and if it isn't, then don't you think I should be involved in these little sessions?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

She opens her mouth to reply, but the elevator pings and CJ goes running by us.

"Can we talk about this later? Alex is here to play with CJ." She says simply, turning before I have a chance to answer.

"Why didn't you tell me you were having him over?" I ask, following her and growing furious with every step she takes away from me.

"Alex! Jennifer!" She exclaims happily, as if the argument we just had hadn't even happened.

I smile politely at the boy and his mother, shaking her hand and introducing myself, but I shoot a warning glare at Prescott for failing to inform me that she was bringing the enemy up in my elevator.

...

I watch him, the enemy, playing the Game of Life with my little girl on my living room floor.

"What does this one say?" the boy asks, handing me the card he's just drawn.

"It says that you get married." I tell him, handing him back the card.

"I'm going to name my wife Christian." He says, and CJ blushes, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He's trouble. I had this problem with Anastasia and the photographer back when Ana was still in school.

"I'm not interested, but thank you." I tell him, winking at CJ, who then glares at me.

"He means me, Daddy." She says, drawing a card of her own. "What does this say?" She asks, and I grin.

"It says 'clean up the game because Mrs. Jacobs will be here soon'." I tell her, and she sighs as she and the boy begin gathering the small pieces.

As if on cue the elevator pings, though I already knew it was about to because Prescott won't dare make the mistake of keeping me out of the loop again.

"Mommy!" The boy says, running into his mother's arms.

Upon initial assessment, he's harmless; however the marriage comment has set him in my sights for further investigation.

"Hello, Mrs. Jacobs." I say, walking toward the foyer with CJ to meet her.

"Please, Jennifer." She says with a smile.

"Jennifer, then. The children had a wonderful afternoon." I tell her, placing my hand on CJ's hair.

"Oh, I'm so glad. Alex is really quite fond of your Christian." She says.

Yes. MY Christian. I nod, smiling at that reference. She is mine, isn't she? My sweet little angel, who your little devil wants to corrupt.

"Yes, I'm sure it's mutual." I tell her. "I'm sorry Anastasia isn't here to say goodbye; she's giving our son a bath." I explain.

"He's potty training. It got ugly." CJ adds.

"Oh, that's fine. I hope it wasn't too much for you guys to have a fourth rugrat running around." She says, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Absolutely not, in fact, I'm shooting for two more." I tell her with a mock discreet wink and a grin. It's really just too easy.

"Oh, Ana better watch out!" She says, obviously enjoying this repartee.

"We'd love to have Alex over again sometime." I suggest, receiving a surprised look from my daughter.

"I'm sure he'd love that." Jennifer replies, looking down at her son for confirmation and receiving and enthusiastic nod.

…

As soon as Ana climbs into bed, I shift closer to her, resting one hand on her hip and using the other to stroke her silky hair off of her neck, giving me free access. I brush my lips across the soft skin just above her shoulder blades, and she sighs. I can see the goosebumps form all over her arms and her skin begin to flush.

"What are you doing?" She whispers, breathing heavily as I move over her shoulder, leaving a trail of hot, wet kissing in my wake.

"Seducing my wife, but you're really pulling the magic out of it by asking that." I tease, letting my hand slide under her satin nightgown.

"I'm still mad at you." She murmurs, though she makes no moves to make me stop.

"Good." I whisper back, nipping at her ear. "Use that. Fight me."

"Fight you?" She asks, rolling onto her back so that her upper half is beneath me, trapped between my arms as I support myself above her.

"When you slapped me today…" I start, trailing off. I can feel myself blush, not to mention harden, thinking about just how turned on I was by it.

Her face flushes the darkest crimson I've ever seen it in all of our time together, and I wonder why she's blushing so much.

"How did you know I'd been talking to Flynn?" She asks, gazing up into my eyes.

"I snooped through your private phone records. I had Welch pull up information on everyone you've called in the last three months." I tell her, wondering if she's looking for a reason to get angrier to make this kinky game a little more interesting.

I'm shooting 0 for 3 today. Instead of fueling the kinky fire, her eyes fill with tears that immediately overflow down her temples and into her hair.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles, rolling away from me and climbing out of the bed.

"Ana…" I say softly, following her across the room and pulling her into my arms.

She sobs harshly against my chest, her hands covering her face, and I hug her as tight as I possibly can as she shakes.

"Baby, please, talk to me." I beg her, kissing her hair, but she says nothing. "I thought we had no secrets." I whisper softly, and she looks up at me, her eyes moist and bloodshot.

"I'm afraid." She says at a nearly inaudible volume.

"Of what?" I ask her, trying not to show any drastic reactions to her confession.

"That we'll never be happy again. That we'll never regain the security and the sense of home that we once had. Christian, everything that's happened has just scared me so much, all of the possible things that could happen, and I'm trying SO hard to pretend that everything is fine and just move on, but I can tell that you're afraid too, and you just won't admit it." She says, and I feel my entire body stiffen. "One of us has to force our lives back in the right direction. I know you're not ready. Hell, I'm not ready either, but we have to, and it terrifies me."

"You think I'm holding us back from moving on?" I ask, gazing into her tear-filled eyes

"Not on purpose." She replies softly. "You're trying to protect us, and I love you for that because right now, I could really use some protection, some sense that someone is on top of this goddamn bullshit. Damnit, Christian, I hate that son of a bitch for ruining our lives, and I hate it even more that I'm letting it affect how I view the world." She confesses, and I pull her tighter to me.

She cries, for a long while, into my chest as we stand in the middle of our bedroom. I have no idea how to respond to what she's told me. She's not completely wrong. I have stepped up security, and I have been very hesitant to let them out to do the things normal families do. Once Hyde was no longer a threat, we began to relax again, and then Danielle pulled that stunt, and I feel like I've let it happen all over again. I let someone get close to my family, and it almost resulted in the death of my wife and abduction of our baby. Again.

"You're very sweary." I murmur when I notice that her sobs have subsided to a few sparse sniffles.

She gives me a soft laugh-scoff combo and looks up at me.

"We'll be okay again, baby." I assure her, but she doesn't look convinced. "We will. We just need a fresh start."

…


	17. A Fresh Start

A/N: I just want to start out by thanking you guys all for being so patient! I'm sorry that this update is way behind. I probably could have posted it sooner, but I haven't had a moment to read it over until now. I hate posting without reading over. I've finally had a chance this morning, though, so here it is! The next chapter isn't even started yet, so it will be a few days AT LEAST.

Week one of college and I have three assignments already, plus I'm feeling so very disorganized while I try to acclimate myself to this system of digital handouts and assignment submissions. I also don't even have all of my textbooks because my student loan is taking forever to come in. It's super frustrating. I don't recommend this feeling for ANYONE!

On top of all that, I have strep throat, and all I feel like doing right now is lying on my living room floor and whining at my parents lol.

So here is the next part. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. One of my favourite scenes is actually in this chapter. It's not long, and I apologize for that. I'm on the last leg of the story though and certain scenes need to be paired together in the next chapter.

**Chapter 17 – A Fresh Start:**

"You guys are up early." I say, exiting my study after a long call to my contact in Taiwan and finding my family sitting at the breakfast bar.

"Eli has the speech pathologist, and Jaisyn has to get her next vaccination." Ana replies, scooping a spoonful of oatmeal into our son's mouth, while simultaneously nursing the baby.

She really is an amazing mother.

"Let me help." I say, taking the spoon from her hand and sitting down on the other side of Eli.

"Eat!" He demands, and I grin, giving him another scoop.

"I have a meeting, but I can cancel if you want me to come." I offer, remembering the long conversation that followed Ana's breakdown last night.

She was completely beside herself. I had no idea she was carrying the burden of so many worries. We talked for hours, and we both admitted to being afraid to relax, to go back to our old routines for fear of some unknown threat might be lurking in the shadows.

She begged me not to blame myself, but I still do. It was my job to protect my family, to make them feel safe, and they don't. I don't know what Ana was more afraid of: the possibility of more danger or having to tell me that she's been pretending to be fine all of this time just so that I'd start feeling better.

"You don't have to. Sawyer and Ryan are coming with us." She replies softly, and I look up, waiting for her to meet my eyes, so I know she's okay.

When she finally does, she gives me a soft smile, and I nod.

"Take Reynolds as well. I don't need him around here." I tell her and she agrees immediately. It's a start.

I don't care if I have to hire and train an entire military fleet to protect my family. She can take as many security guards with her as she likes. I don't care if she's going into Bed, Bath, and Beyond with an entourage of ten men to buy one set of sheets. Nothing is too much for her to feel safe again. I wonder idly if she's agreeing to appease my fears more than her own, but I won't question it. My intentions are to give her whatever she asks for. Nothing more, in order to show her I'm not insane, and nothing less, so she can maintain whatever needs she has for feeling safe.

Compromise. I guess Flynn isn't completely useless.

…

"Do you know why I asked you in here?" I ask, staring impassively at the gentleman, if you can call him that, sitting across from me.

I have ways of intimidating the right information out of the right people, and I intend to use my skills to their fullest extent with this particular young man.

He shakes his head, staring fearfully at me.

_Good. You should be very afraid._

"I have a few questions I'd like to ask you. Would you like a lawyer present for this discussion?" I ask, giving him one last chance to avoid incriminating himself, though I don't think he's smart enough to know the difference.

He shakes his head again, and I nod, resting my hand over my mouth to hide my smirk.

"Do you know the difference between the truth and lie?" I ask, and he nods in response.

_Do you speak? Christ!_

"Good. Then you'll have no problem answering my questions truthfully." I add.

"Okay." He says, finally speaking up, if you can call it that.

"What are your intentions with my daughter, Mr. Jacobs?" I ask, leaning forward, my elbows resting on my desk as I glare into the enemy's eyes.

He shrugs, blinking up at me with the crazed brown eyes of a manipulative mastermind.

"You don't know? Mr. Jacobs, did you kiss my daughter and ask her to be your girlfriend several months ago? And did you, or did you not, recently kiss her on the playground and tell your friends that she was your girlfriend just two days ago? And didn't you, just yesterday, name her as your wife in the Game of Life?" I ask, glaring into his eyes.

He nods at me, his eyes still wide and full of apprehension.

"Why did you do those things? What do you plan on doing with my daughter?" I ask, keeping my voice low as he trembles in his chair.

"Hold her hand. Give her some cookies." He says softly, staring back at me with a classic deer in a headlight expression. I love that look. I see it so often with my employees, and it never gets old.

"You want to give her cookies?" I ask, and he nods vigorously. "Do you have a job, Mr. Jacobs?"

"No." He replies, shaking his head.

"No job, no real assets of your own yet, no money, do you drive?"

"I have a bike." He says, perking up as if he's just won a point.

"With two seats?" I ask, playing along with his excitement.

"No." He says, his falling.

"How on earth do you expect to support my daughter's cookie habit without a job or money? How will you safely transport her to and from school and her lessons on a bicycle with only one seat?" I ask, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I could walk, and she could ride my bike. My mommy gives me lots of cookies. She can have all of them if she wants." He says, and I can't help but smirk at the boy.

"You're a smart man. You already know how to sweet talk a woman." I say with a laugh. "Come over here."

He gets up and walks around my desk slowly, cautiously, before coming to stand in front of me.

"Take this." I say, reaching into my wallet and pulling out a credit card.

"What is it?" He asks, and I grin.

"You want to date my daughter, right?" I ask, and he nods. "Then you're going to have to show her that you can treat her just as good as her daddy. She deserves nothing short of the very best." I continue, tucking the card into pocket of his miniature blazer. "You're going to take her out, someplace nice. I'll make the reservations and have a driver pick you up in a limo at your house. I'll pre-order your meals, a wealthy man doesn't let his girl see the menu or the prices, understand?" I ask.

"Yes." He nods firmly.

"When the check comes, you pick up the little black folder, you tuck that card inside, and you wink at the waiter. Be smooth. If she's a woman, you ignore her. Don't you dare try playing bullshit head games with my little girl, or I'll break your legs, understand?" I ask, realizing that his shocked face probably has more to do with my language than my threat. "Excuse my language." I add, and he relaxes substantially.

"CJ likes grape juice." He points out, and I nod.

"I'll handle the details; you just do what I told you." I tell him, giving him a pointed look.

…

I watch, standing in the doorway of Escala with Ana and CJ, as a black stretch limo pulls up in front of the building. Taylor steps out of the driver's seat and moves around to the back door, opening it and helping Mr. Jacobs out. The boy looks adorable, having been outfitted by my people in a small black tuxedo.

"Miss Grey, Mrs. Grey, Mr. Grey." He says, greeting us formally, and I can't help the smirk on gracing my lips. Taylor must have coached him during their drive over.

"Hi." CJ giggles, allowing Mr. Jacobs to take her white-gloved hand. I raise brow at him when he places a kiss on her knuckles, though I keep my mouth shut. There is a piece of fabric between those lips and my baby's precious hand.

"Have her home before dark." I warn, relishing in the fearful glance over his shoulder as he leads her to the open door of the limo.

…

"This is nice." Ana says as I help her into our private booth.

"I wanted to take my wife someplace nice. You've been cooped up in the apartment. I thought you needed a night out." I explain, taking my seat next to her.

"Well, your wife thanks you. It's nice to be wearing something that doesn't accessorize with regurgitated breast milk." She says, grinning at me.

"You look beautiful, no matter what you wear." I tell her, bringing her hand up to my mouth and placing a soft kiss on each of her knuckles.

She scoffs, as if she doesn't believe me, and shifts her gaze to Alex and CJ at a table nearby.

"They look so cute." She says softly. "It was really sweet of you to do this."

"Well, I guess I sort of owed CJ, given that I ruined her plans… and you know, ruining the boy's party." I tell her. "Though, the place was a death trap. I still maintain that." I add quickly.

"We need to stop finding danger lurking around every corner." She says, and I'm reminded of our conversation from last night again.

"What do you think of taking that honeymoon we didn't get to take?" I ask, wondering how she'll take it.

"And leave the children?" She asks, and I watch as her nerves drag her lower lip to its home between her teeth.

"No. It's less of a honeymoon and more of a family getaway." I clarify.

"All of us?" She asks, and I nod once, raising my brows expectantly. "Where?" She asks.

"As it was when it was our honeymoon, you get limited details." I tell her, grinning smugly.

"Is she drinking the finger bowl?" Ana asks, watching the children as we talk.

I glance over, and sure enough, both CJ and Alex have removed the lemons from their finger bowls and are sipping the warm water.

…

"Now when you get out of the car, tell him you had a really nice time." I hear Ana murmur to CJ as she helps our daughter into the back of the limo.

Sure enough, when the limo pulls up in front of Escala, and Alex escorts my daughter to the door where Ana and I are waiting, CJ drops the swoony line that her mother fed her.

"I had a really nice time." She says, batting her eyelashes at him.

Christ. If this is how she is at five, I'm going to be doomed when she's fifteen.

"Me too. That lemon soup was pretty yummy." Alex replies, and CJ nods her agreement.

I really haven't the heart to tell them that it wasn't soup. I don't want to ruin their evening by embarrassing them, especially since I've finally won myself back into CJ's good graces. Like her mother, the child is stubborn as hell and a holy terror when she's angry.

Just when I think that I've orchestrated the perfect evening, the unthinkable happens: the boy starts to lean in toward CJ, lips pursed and eyes closed. I have to move fast. I quickly place my hand over his mouth, startling them both and causing them to look up at me. I shake my head very slowly, my eyes narrow and my mouth a thin line. I hope they're both very afraid right now. They most certainly look it.

"Taylor, please see Mr. Jacobs home." I say, watching as Jason opens the back door for the boy and helps him buckle up before climbing into the driver's seat and pulling away from the street.

"Did you have a nice evening?" Ana asks, taking CJ's hand and walking into the front lobby of Escala. I follow close behind, listening to CJ gush about how sweet it was of Alex to take her on a big girl dinner.

I'm glad she enjoyed herself. Hopefully, she'll remember that I did this for her when I break the news that we'll be leaving the country for four months.

…

"But what about school?!" CJ asks, her voice a whiney pitch.

"You'll have a tutor. She'll travel with us." I explain, but she's not happy. "CJ, travelling abroad is a wonderful opportunity that many young ladies don't have at their disposal. You'll see parts of the world that most people only dream about. It's the best form of education you can get." I assure her.

"Can Alex come?" She asks, her eyebrows knitting closer together with each question.

"No, but you can video chat with him whenever you want." I explain, and she seems somewhat appeased, though I'm really not completely sure.

"Okay." She mumbles, fidgeting with the rubber on the sole of her shoe.

"CJ, you know that I love you, right?" I ask, leaning over to look into her eyes.

"I guess." She mumbles again.

I place my index finger under her chin, gently lifting her face until she's looking directly into my eyes.

"I love you with every fiber of my being. My life begins and ends with you and your brother and sister and Mommy. Do you understand that? Without you, I would be nothing. Nothing in this entire world means more to me than you guys." I tell her, staring hard into those grey mirrors in her eyes.

"I love you too, Daddy." She murmurs, crawling over into my lap.

"The day I found out that I had a daughter I'd never met, that someone kept you away from me, my heart was broken. If you weren't here now, I'd simply die." I murmur, more to myself than to her.

"I hope you never die." She murmurs back. "You're the best daddy in all the land."


	18. Ebb and Flow, Epilogue

A/N: Oh my gosh! At times, I never thought I'd be done with this story because there was so much I wanted to cover, but I'm finally feeling complete. This is the last chapter (epilogue at the end) of this story.

In terms of other stories, I may write some smaller pieces if I find I have time.

You all have been SO supportive throughout this story and the previous one, and I cannot even BEGIN to express how wonderful that is. I thank each and every one of you for your comments, and your messages, and the favs/follows for this story. It means the world to me that people actually enjoyed something I wrote as a way to pass the summer! I never intended or expected it to be so well received, so I thank you! These probably would have ended up in my unfinished folder if you all hadn't pushed me to continue and post new chapters all the time!

Feel free to PM me anytime! I'd love to keep in touch with you all! I feel like this journey has been really wonderful to go on with you all!

Without further ado, the final chapter.

**Chapter 18 – Ebb and Flow:**

"Christian, do you have Jaisyn's cooler with all of the bottles?" I ask, mentally checking off everything I'm probably forgetting to bring.

"It's in the car, Ana." He says in an exasperated tone, and I can tell he's only humouring me by standing here, in the great room, while I make sure that everything is ready for us to leave it for four months.

"Okay, okay." I say softly, biting my lip and batting my eyelashes up at him, fully aware that it will turn whatever irritation he's having with me into something completely different. He narrows his eyes at me, and I know it's working.

"Sir?" Gail interrupts from the doorway, and we turn to look at her. "Detective Clark is on his way up to see you." She says, and the irritation returns to my husband, tenfold this time.

"Tell him I'm out of the country. He'll have to make an appointment when I return." Christian says, grabbing my elbow and ushering me toward the service elevator.

The main elevator pings before we have a chance to press the call button on the service, and I hear Christian curse under his breath.

"Going somewhere, Grey?" Clark's voice booms through the foyer.

"Yes." Christian replies coolly, not bothering to elaborate.

"Hope I'm not keeping you from something urgent, but I've got some pressing matters to discuss with you." He says, and I watch as three uniformed officers and a woman in a sharp pant suit stand near the elevator doors.

"And it just couldn't wait until I return from vacation." Christian states, rather than asks.

"Well, it seems that after her arrest, Miss Alexander felt it was pertinent to bring something to our attention." He says, and I feel myself tense, though Christian doesn't seem at all phased by this.

"I can't imagine what that might be, Detective." He replies, and I recognize his tone; it's the cool CEO tone he uses when he's lying or hiding something. I recognize it because I'm his wife, and I've experienced all fifty shades of Christian Grey, but I wonder if Clark knows he's lying.

"This is Miss Simon. She's a supervisor with Child Protective Services." He says, gesturing to the woman, whom upon introduction, stepped forward and is now extending her hand to my husband and I.

"What is this about?" Christian asks, and I immediately wonder if they're here to take away Eli because Danielle told them that it was Christian who shot Hyde.

"Miss Alexander made claims that your home is unfit for children. Her allegations include a number of things, namely a torture chamber that you like to call your playroom. She claims that you personally held her there on more than one occasion and subjected her to an array of devices." Clark says, staring directly into Christian's eyes.

"Detective, if Miss Alexander wants to make such claims, you can take them up with my lawyer. Right now, I'm taking my wife and children on vacation. I'm done listening to you spread this filth and slander in my home." Christian snaps.

"Well, you can call your lawyer right now, if you like, but my guys and I have a warrant to search the premises, and we'll be doing just that." Clark says, handing Christian and folded piece of paper and walking through the foyer door to our living room.

"Gail, call my father." Christian snaps, following Clark and his uniformed goons.

"Mrs. Grey, are your children home?" The social worker asks me.

"They're in the car with our security team." I reply quietly. "Why?"

"These claims are very serious. If your husband is found guilty…" She says, trailing off as if she doesn't want to tell me that she'll snatch my children from my arms.

"My husband has done nothing wrong." I tell her, staring angrily into her face.

"Mrs. Grey, if your husband is abusing you as well, you can tell me, and I will ensure that you and your children are put into protective custody. I know he's a powerf—"

I cut her off, stepping toward her until I'm inches from her face.

"My husband is the most amazing man and father. He would NEVER hurt anyone in the way that you are suggesting. Finish your search, and get the hell out of my home." I whisper in a harsh tone, trying not to draw Christian's attention.

I clear my throat and smooth the skirt of my dress before turning and heading into the great room to catch up to the search party. When I finally find them, they're leaving CJ's bedroom and heading toward the stairs.

"My housekeeper will have your heads if you leave anymore rooms in the disgusting disarray that you've just left my children's and my own bedrooms." Christian says dryly, glancing over his shoulder at me as I follow them upstairs.

"She specified the room upstairs on the left hand side." Clark says, heading toward that room. "Is this where your playroom is, Grey?" He asks, smirking at us.

"Detective, I have three young children, who, admittedly, are relatively spoiled. We have several playrooms in our home." Christian says, crossing his arms.

"I guess you won't mind us going in then?" Clark asks, and I can tell that he's trying to intimidate my husband into confessing to something.

"Please, by all means." Christian replies.

"You got a key for this room?" Clark asks after the knob refuses to turn.

"Of course. My apologies." Christian replies coolly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his key ring. "My daughter insists on keeping this room protected. Boys have cooties, you know." He says, and I try desperately to try to hide my smirk. I really must learn how Christian can be so stoic.

I watch him fumble with his keys, trying to find the right one. He's deliberately stalling because I can see the master key dangling on the loop.

"Aha!" He says, as the lock finally clicks over and the door opens. I want so desperately to giggle at my husband and his faux bumbling idiot routine. It's so very out of character for him, and I'm enjoying the humour in it.

"Oh, here, allow me." I say because I need to say something before I burst into laughter. I reach around one of the uniformed officers and flick the light switch.

Clark stands in the doorway as strings of pink LED lights, hung all over the ceiling, illuminate the room in a soft glow, and the sounds of CJ's music boxes, synced to the light switch and four small speakers, fill our ears.

One of the uniformed officers clears his throat, looking to Clark for guidance, but he just stands there, taking in the scene: the dolls sitting around a small table with tea settings, the Barbie princess castle in the corner, the dress up center on the far wall, complete with boas and real Jimmy Choos and designer hand bags that CJ begged Christian for.

Clark pulls out his notepad, flipping through it for a moment before grunting and turning toward Christian and I.

"Some playroom." He mutters before turning and leading his officers back down the hall toward the stairs.

Christian flicks the light switch off and pulls the door to CJ's playroom closed before looking at me and exhaling. I know he's thinking exactly what I'm thinking: thank god we removed the real playroom.

…

"Do you think Clark will follow up?" I ask, sitting next to Christian his company plane.

"I'm not sure. What could he really follow up on? He found nothing. Danielle's allegations were false." He says, and I roll my eyes.

"What if he contacts your LAWYER to share this information?" I ask, and he stares at me, his eyes telling me he's had the same idea rolling around in his brain all along.

"I don't think my parents would believe that I held Danielle captive and tortured her in a bedroom in my home." He whispers, but I can tell he's anxious about it.

"Would be so horrible if they knew you were into alternative sexcapades once upon a time? It's not like you were forcing anyone against her will." I point out.

"Would you like your father finding out that you like being tied to the bed and spanked?" He asks, raising a brow at me.

I blush at the mere thought of Ray even knowing I have sex, let alone kinky sex. I'm sure he's well aware; I'm married with children, but it's one of those unspoken understandings. Even when I was a teenager, and my mother moved away with husband number three, letting me stay with Ray, we had a common understanding that we wouldn't discuss sex.

He tried once when I was in high school. There had been a notice sent home to all of the parents that some students had been rumoured to have entered into a pregnancy pact. I didn't even know what that was, nor had I heard these rumours. I guess I was out of loop, just like the time I wore those colourful rubber bracelets that were later coined 'sex bracelets' and indicated, by colour, all of the different acts you were willing to perform. I assured Ray, by blushing and locking myself in the bathroom for three hours, that I was not, and would never be, interested in entering some kind of pregnancy pact.

I'm almost positive that Ray finding out about my sex life with Christian would result in me having to move to a remote island of chaste women, just to rid myself of the humiliation.

"No, I guess not." I finally answer Christian, realizing I've been on an internal tirade with myself.

"Clark didn't find anything, so I doubt he'll even bother contacting Carrick, but if he does, the game plan is to deny, deny, deny. Do you understand?" He asks, raising both eyebrows at me in question, as if I'm a child.

"Obviously." I reply petulantly, rolling my eyes. I could have done without the patronizing tone.

…

* * *

I smile, walking toward to where she's lying out on a lounger on the deck of the yacht, catching the sun and relaxing while the children nap in the cabins.

"Appletini?" I ask softly, leaning down next to her ear, so she can feel my breath on her skin. I watch the slow smile creep over her mouth, but her eyes remain closed behind her large sunglasses.

"Virgin?" She asks, finally lifting her shades and accepting the drink.

"Don't offer me something you can't produce. You haven't been a virgin since I got my hands on you." I tease, watching as a soft pink hue lights her cheeks. I lean over her, kissing her lips softly before moving toward my own lounger on the right of hers.

"I don't know; you definitely covered virgin territory today." She murmurs, biting her lip and staring at me with heavy-hooded eyes.

"For me too." I admit, remembering my hesitation about our little in-ocean rendezvous before the sun came up.

I smile as she puts her drink down on the deck and reaches for me. I take her hand and give it a firm squeeze, but it appears she's got other plans. Instead of lying next to me, holding my hand, she tugs softly, urging me to get up, before pulling me again, down toward her.

"Mrs. Grey, what are your intentions with my wife's husband?" I ask in mock disbelief as I place my left knee on the lounger between her legs, leaving my right foot on the deck and leaning over her body.

"The kids are sleeping, and the staff are all taking a break while we're anchored." She murmurs, tilting her lips up toward mine.

"Thinking about swabbing the deck?" I ask, and she giggles as my mouth crashes down onto hers. I make quick work of pulling the strings loose on her bikini and moving the scrap of material away, eager to feast my eyes on what it hides.

"Whatchya doin?"

Startled, I sit up and smile at my daughter over the back of the lounger as Ana tries to discreetly pull her top back on beneath me.

"Just talking. What are you doing up?" I ask, changing the subject.

"How come you're on top of mommy?" She asks, crossing her arms. "Are you wrestling?"

"Yes, we are." Ana pipes up as I move off of her and she sits up, turning to face our daughter. "And Daddy won." She adds.

"Daddy definitely did not win." I mutter under my breath as Ana strolls across the deck to greet our little girl.

"I'm hungry." CJ says, and I'm relieved that she's changed the subject on her own. Hunger I can deal with. Trying to explain my way around the fact that I was about to take my wife in a lounger on the deck of a boat, I cannot deal with.

"Why don't I make you a snack?" Ana suggests. "We're going ashore for lunch as soon as Eli and Jaisyn wake up."

…

* * *

"Ana?" His groggy voice draws my eyes away from the dark water I've been gazing at for—really I'm not sure how long I've been standing here.

I turn around and smile warmly at my husband, stepping into his confused but welcoming arms. It never matters what he's doing - if he's busy or working, or reading quietly on the sofa, eating his breakfast – I can step into his arms, and he doesn't require a reason; he just envelops me and holds me close.

"What's wrong?" He murmurs against my sea blown hair.

"Nothing. I just couldn't sleep." I explain honestly. "It's so peaceful out here."

He nods, kissing my forehead and looking at me with questioning eyes.

"You're sure you're okay?" He asks, and I nod, tilting my chin up toward him, offering my lips, which he accepts without hesitation.

"I don't think I've ever been better in my entire life." I tell him, meaning every single word as I look into his eyes.

His lip twitches slightly, like he wants to smile, but he's unsure if I'm being honest.

"Kiss me, Mr. Grey." I command, and watch his smirk take over. He hovers just above my mouth, his lips mere inches from mine. "Please?" I ask, batting my eyelashes at him.

His grin is brief but mischievous before he captures my lips, his hands smoothing down my back, over his t-shirt that I threw on with my sweat pants, until they find my bottom. He presses my hips to his, letting me feel his arousal before he lifts me up, gripping my behind while I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles at the small of his back.

I feel the railing of the yacht against my back, though I don't know when we moved; I'm too distracted as his mouth roams over my jaw to my neck, leaving a hot, wet trail that the soft ocean breeze quickly cools.

I stagger only slightly when he puts me on my feet, his mouth never leaving my skin, and pulls off my sweat pants, following the path of his finger tips with his lips before lifting me up again and placing me on the metal rail. I vaguely make note of the dangers involved with my position so high on the safety rail. I feel safe in his arms. I haven't felt this safe in a long time. I trust him. He won't let me fall. With one hand splayed firmly on my lower back and the other tangled in my hair, holding my mouth to his, he plunges into me.

It's here, in this moment, as we make love under the moon, in the middle of the ocean, not part of the land or the sky or the water, this is heaven.

"I love you." He murmurs, holding me close to his body as we lay, spent on the deck, enjoying the soft ebb and flow of the water as it gently rocks the boat.

…

**Epilogue – The New House:**

"Can you pull the paper?" I ask, holding the brightly wrapped box in front of Jaisyn.

She slips her finger through the small rip that I've already made in the wrapping, but doesn't pull. Instead, she smiles up at the video camera obscuring her father's face above us and blinks her giant blue eyes at him.

"DaDa." She murmurs, standing up on her wobbly feet and reaching her arms up to him.

Christian's smile is infectious as he puts the camera down and lifts our daughter up, holding her close to his chest and resting his cheek against hers.

"Let's go see the ponies!" He exclaims, eliciting squeals from all of the children gathered in the living room of our house.

"Why don't we get the cake ready?" Kate suggests as Elliott picks up their twins and follows Christian and the rest of the children out into the back yard.

I nod, taking a deep breath as I get up off of the floor. It shouldn't be this hard yet, and I'm sure it's just psychosomatic because I know in a few months I won't be able to get off the floor on my own.

"Come on, Steele. What are you, an old lady?" Kate asks as I follow her to the kitchen.

"Maybe I am an old lady." I tease, smiling at the cartoon ponies on Jaisyn's birthday cake.

...

Standing in the doorway, now that the party has died down, I can't help but smile. CJ, Eli, and Sophie, are leading Jaisyn, Ava, and Kavanaugh around the overgrown meadow in the back of our house, and I can't imagine anything being more perfect. The setting sun scatters over them as they run and giggle, chasing some kind of fluttering bug.

I start as I feel strong arms wrap around me from behind and soft lips press against my shoulder.

"You sure know how to throw one hell of a party, Mr. Grey." I murmur as his hands splay over my still-flat stomach.

"Just wait until the after party." He whispers seductively against my skin. "Boat Blip better put on his hard hat tonight."

I can't help but laugh at Christian's joke, even if he does say it too often, but I nudge him, reminding him that we haven't yet told anyone, and Kate and Elliott are still here somewhere.

"You think we're having a boy?" I ask softly, keeping my voice quiet, and I feel him nod. "Mr. Grey, I think you may be cursed. Years of raising daughters as penance for being such a naughty boy." I tease, and he grins.

"Oh but what fun it is to be a naughty boy." He whispers.

"Do you ever wonder why it was so easy for us to get pregnant, but I couldn't with…" I trail off, wondering if I should even ask this question.

"No." He says, and I bite my lip, hoping he's not upset. "We were always meant to be. It was destiny. Whatever happened in the time we were apart, it was supposed to happen that way. Someone tried to interfere with the Universe's plans, and the Universe corrected it." He murmurs, and I turn my head, lifting my mouth to his.

"Get a room." Kate's voice beams from behind us as she enters the kitchen.

"We have a room. This is the kitchen, a ROOM in our house." Christian says, releasing me from his encircled arms.

"We're heading out now." Kate says, stepping up toward the doorway and looking out at our children. "Maybe we'll let them play just a little longer." She says, obviously seeing the beauty that Christian and I are seeing.

This is it. This is the moment that I've dreamt about ever since Jack took me, this peaceful, safe place where my children can run through the grass, and Christian and I can be happy and completely unafraid.

We're finally there. We're okay.

**Fin.**


	19. SNEAK PEEK - Third Story

**SNEAK PEEK - Third Story**

As some of you may be aware, I've been [slowly but surely] working on a third installment in this series. First semester of college has been REALLY hard. (A lot harder than I thought it would be) Thankfully, I'm done and my exams went really well. I guess putting everything on hold and focusing on school really does pay off! ;)

I'm currently about four pages into the fifth chapter, however, the main 'peak' of the story hasn't even occurred, so I'm fearing that this one will be much longer than I anticipated… isn't that always the case with me? I'm terrible at estimating!

Anywho, I thought I'd give you a sneak peak and check in with you all, if you're still out there? *peaks through hole in wall of textbooks*

I haven't set a date to start posting this story yet because I'm not far enough along in it to make a regular posting schedule, but I'm off school until January 7th, so HOPEFULLY, I'll be able to get enough of a dent in it to start posting on a weekly (ish) basis.

I honestly, cannot WAIT to hear what you guys think of this one, so I'm trying desperately hard to get more of it written!

* * *

"You're late." I say as I hear my eldest daughter pass my open office door, the too-high heels that she 'borrowed' from my closet clicking against the floorboards in the hallway.

"I was at the library." She says, poking her head in the door and grinning at me, her long auburn curls bouncing with her every movement.

"Your father is waiting for you in his study. You should probably try the truth with him, though; Mr. Charleston called him out of a meeting earlier." I inform her casually, raising a brow at her. "I suggest losing the bright red lipstick before seeing your father." I add, watching her face fall.

She must have forgotten that she put it on. She's usually much better at removing it before getting home, not that we don't notice the faint, unnatural hue on her mouth anyway. I guess detention has distracting effects on her.

"Is he mad?" She asks, slipping the shoes off and accepting the tissue I hold out to her.

"It's been four hours since your principal called." I point out. "So he's probably still positively furious." I add honestly.

_Palm twitcingly so_. I muse to myself.

"Are you going to come? I may need a witness." She says, smirking at me with an expression identical to her father's.

"This isn't funny, Christian." I tell her, completely unamused.

"Sorry." She mutters, sulking in the chair next to my desk.

"When you say that you're sorry for something, it means you're going to try not to do that thing anymore. If you continue apologizing for the same things, how on earth can we believe that you're truly sorry?" I ask her, and she just shrugs.

Her father hates the shrug.

"Go." I say, trying desperately to be tough and unmoving, rather than giving her tips to soften her father's resolve before he lays into her for today's misdemeanor. If anyone understands how scary the wrath of Christian T. Grey can be, it's me.

…


	20. Book Three Posted

Book Three is Posted!

The first chapter is finally posted! I was going to wait until tomorrow night, but my family will be over for our annual Wii bowling tournament and I can't let Team Tinkerbell Chemists down.

The story is called Fifteen Shades of CJ Grey

s/8825870/1/Fifteen-Shades-of-CJ-Grey


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